


Tenacity

by GrapefruitTwostep



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, It's not based on any specific Jane Austen but it's still Jane Austen, Jane Austen - Freeform, Zuko is absolutely going to pine dramatically for this entire story and I cannot be stopped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25611820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapefruitTwostep/pseuds/GrapefruitTwostep
Summary: Though Katara's family no longer has the standing they once did, she prides herself on her charm and ability to get along with everyone in the small society of their county. Except, that is, the taciturn, ill-tempered Mr. Zuko who has just taken up residence at Caldera Court. Despite trying their best to see as little of each other as possible, Katara's friends and associates have no interest in maintaining distance from the man she finds so distasteful. For Mr. Zuko's part, he would love to honor Miss Katara's wishes, except there is something quite alluring about the young woman that he does not wish to examine further. But in a town as small as theirs, avoiding someone is nearly impossible, especially when family is involved.This is not based on any specific Jane Austen novel or Regency era work, but takes inspiration from all of them.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 163





	1. In Which a New Arrival Causes a Stir

**Author's Note:**

> I want to stress this again, this is NOT Pride and Prejudice. Or Sense and Sensibility. Or any other Jane Austen novel. But I did watch every movie and television version I could get my hands on, plus I reread a number of Austen novels, plus my senior thesis was "Perfect Women and Moral Education in Mansfield Park" so let's just say I have some experience with Austen's work.
> 
> What this fic IS is an exercise on my ability to use big words and also write these dramatic little idiots without kissing. Let's get our yearning on.
> 
> Happy Zutara Week!

The family which resided at the estate of Southwinter had once been quite wealthy, but now was only barely well to do. Though it was still a grand house with spreading gardens, the upkeep had faltered and entire wings had been closed off and left dark to save on costs. Southwinter only kept a cook, a housekeeper whose duties also included the parsonage, two maids, and a groomsman with no carriage to speak of.

Like the house, the family had once been more that it currently was. Over the years, branches of the family had withered off to nothing and now there were only four members: Colonel Hakoda, who was not even in residence, having purchased his commission as a much younger man and maintaining it despite any objections; his elderly mother who was in poor health; and his two children, both old enough to marry but not yet wed. The elder child, Mr. Sokka, was charged with the upkeep of the estate in his father's absence and carried out his duties tolerably well, despite his somewhat sensible nature, and was respected by his neighbors in spite of the family's troubles.

But it is the younger child who is of the most interest to our narrative.

Miss Katara was twenty-years-old, beautiful, and headstrong. Her childhood had been marked by the tragedy of her mother's untimely death, and by her father's long absence, leaving her to grow up with a strong and unwavering moral compass, which was perhaps too strict at times, and the idea that if she didn't care for Southwinter and its residents, no one would. She had expressed no intention of marrying while her grandmother and brother still needed looking after, and was somehow virtually oblivious to the intentions of certain young men about village and county.

Despite both Miss Katara's virtues and failings, she was very well liked. It had been noted that she spent more time away from the house than within it, and was often found in the village, walking with her neighbors and frequenting the small shops. This particular bright spring morning found her riding home from down with a new ribbon and the sun on her hair, which made her eyes shine very bright and her cheeks turn pink with the wind of her passage.

Miss Katara riding onto the lawn in the late morning was a normal enough occurrence that the groomsman took no notice of her passage except for to raise one hand in a hello. She waved back and rode on, along the road towards the house.

The only thing that swayed her from her course was her brother, walking across the lawn towards her from the far side of the house. Katara pulled up her horse and slowed. "Sokka," she said, forgoing the formality that should have been required of her station and of her brother's. "Where have you been?"

"I've been out," Sokka said, putting his nose in the air and placing one hand on his hat to stop the wind from striking it from his head. "Some of us are forced to pay calls rather than galavant about the countryside like some kind of wayward spirit."

Katara had spent enough time with her brother that his moods had no effect on her, and she slid from the mare's saddle without responding. "On foot?" she asked, noting the dust on Sokka's boots. "You could easily have taken one of the horses on whatever call you intended to pay. Who in the neighborhood so required your company that you walked there?"

"You may well ask," Sokka said with an extravagant wave of one gloved hand, and thus nearly allowing the wind to pluck his hat away in the process. He caught it, and his countenance was such that Katara thought he was blaming her for the mishap. "I have been to see our newest neighbor," Sokka said, screwing the hat more firmly to his head. "You shall be interested to know that Caldera Court is newly occupied."

That was news that interested Katara. She took the mare’s reins in one hand, guiding the beast behind her as she and Sokka walked back towards the house. "Caldera Court has been empty for many years," Katara said. "Who has decided to come rent it now, after so much time?"

"A gentleman of some means and opportunity," Sokka said. "His name is Mr. Zuko, and he comes with only his household and an uncle to keep him company. I have not gotten the full story from him yet, since I only saw him to introduce myself and offer an invitation for a later visit, but it seems that he has moved from town at the behest of his father, a nobleman of some rank. For what exact reason, I have not yet determined, but he does look in need of ..." and here Sokka paused, his face coloring as he searched for the right word, and finally settled on, "convalescence."

"Convalescence?" Katara repeated in surprise. "Is he ill?"

"Not exactly," Sokka said, and did not answer further.

The two siblings walked toward the house in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Sokka ran over the only interaction he'd had with Mr. Zuko, which had been somewhat strained, though the gentleman was quite polite, and wondered how he would maintain conversation for an entire visit. Perhaps bringing Katara would be the best idea. She would have to meet Mr. Zuko at some point, of course, and besides, he could admit that Katara had more sense than he did, and in a case like this, perhaps that would come in handy. And besides, bringing a lady along — even one as headstrong as his sister — was the best sort of social lubricant.

For her part, Katara was also thinking about Mr. Zuko, but in the abstract, given that she had not yet had the pleasure of his company. She had always enjoyed meeting new people, and was looking forward to this acquaintance as well, but yet, there was something in Sokka's manner that made her wary. Sokka was often less suspicious than she was of the intentions of others, and if even he found himself carefully picking his words, she wondered what sort of person she might find in Mr. Zuko. But, she resolved not to be cold to him, and not prejudice herself unjustly towards the gentleman without first meeting him. Yes, it was important not to make snap judgements, she told herself, unaware of the irony of it, given her proclivity towards doing exactly that.

They reached the house together and Katara handed the horse off to the groomsman, who hurried away. The two siblings entered the main hall of Southwinter, Sokka knocking the dust from his boots and Katara trying to smooth the wrinkles from her skirts. It was not, of course, that there was anyone of consequence to assess their appearance. Their father was far away and would remain there for a while yet. And their grandmother was, at this hour, likely still in her chambers. The house was, as it always was, theirs and theirs alone, a thought that set Katara's head to spinning with the strangeness of it.

"And when have you arranged to call on Mr. Zuko again?" she asked, forcing conversation.

"Within the week," Sokka said. "I also promised to take him around the neighborhood, if he so wishes, and meet anyone else he has a pleasure to. I will admit though, I am unsure if that offer was taken up. He is a somewhat taciturn man. His uncle, however, is a true joy and provided all the excitement and good humor his nephew did not."

"Ah, so the younger is ill humored?" Katara asked.

"I wouldn't say that," Sokka said, taking off his hat as he walked to the second best sitting room. "In fact, I don't think I said that at all, and it is quite uncharitable of you to say I did."

"I didn't say you did," Katara said. "But I know myself to be clever enough to find the implication in the unsaid."

Sokka, who despite his words and manner and dress had something of Katara's stubborness as well, said, "Maybe you're too clever by half."

"It has been mentioned before," Katara said, tapping a finger against her chin. When she saw Sokka's expression though, she laughed. "Don't look so upset, Sokka. You can be clever too, if you gave it some thought."

"Sit down," Sokka said in a huff, "or go away. Is this any way to treat your older brother?"

"I believe it's the only way to treat him," Katara said.

They went on in this vein for some time — the easy wit of two young people with too much time and not enough propriety. Katara and Sokka, thought possessed of enough wealth and standing to have received a formal education, had also found it imperative that they raise themselves to a certain extent. Unlike the majority of their peers, they did not have the benefit of tutors, governesses, and extensive schooling, nor had they had a mother to guide their development in a very long time. Or, if one was perfectly frank, a father either. Colonel Hakoda was a good man, a proud man, and an honorable one, as either of his children would have been quick to say. He was not, however, a  _ present _ man in his children's lives, and for a long time, all knowledge they had of him, and he of them, came through his letters. The siblings were resigned to this, and had grown past the resentment younger children developed in a situation of this sort. However, it did make them somewhat strange, and had given them a reputation in the county for certain oddities and manners that, in the eyes of their peers, belied a lack of refinement.

Throughout the whole discussion, though, Katara found herself interested in the newest addition to the neighborhood. She did not ask Sokka outright about Mr. Zuko, for that would have told him of her interest and opened her up to a great deal of mockery. For it was not the kind of interest that a young woman should have in a wealthy new neighbor. It was something far more like suspicion, though why, she was unsure. Perhaps it was simply the way in which Sokka spoke of Mr. Zuko that made her nervous.

But no, she reminded herself. Do not judge the poor man before you have met him, based only on an implication in Sokka's tone. One must be charitable in one's opinions.

At that very moment, as Katara was scolding herself, they received a call. Without waiting for any kind of introduction, the visitor let himself into the second best sitting room where the siblings sat, and revealed himself to be the Vicar of the village, a Mr. Aang and a dear friend of the family at Southwinter.

"Hello!" Sokka said, not rising from his seat on the sofa as he should have — yet another breach in protocol that would have had the village in a tizzy if they knew about it. "I had wondered when you'd come by."

Mr. Aang was a bright and cheerful gentleman who lived in the parsonage on the Southwinter estate. While the house had fallen in grandeur, it had once been the best in the village and therefore had been the one the parsonage was attached to, many years ago. This had all been for the best, as Mr. Aang had been a ward of Colonel Hakoda before he had joined the clergy. He still kept up the best of relations with the family and was, in Sokka's estimation, something of a third sibling.

"Hello, Sokka, Katara," Aang said, offering a slight bow, far too formal for the setting but very much in keeping with his way. "It's a lovely day and I have heard we have a new neighbor."

"I had heard that as well," said Katara with a laugh. "Sokka has been to see him and has brought back a very mixed report on the gentleman and his uncle."

"Mixed!" With his usual excitement, Aang sat himself in a nearby chair. "Well, explain more of this mixture to us, Sokka, if you would be so good." 

Once again, Sokka explained his meeting with Mr. Zuko, much to Aang's interest. New people were always interesting to Aang, who took his work very seriously. Anyone who had recently arrived in the county could count on a visit from the overeager vicar within a week of their move, regardless of his having been invited.

"We must help Mr. Zuko introduce himself to society!" Aang said once Sokka finished, clapping his hands together.

"I'm sure society knows him better than it knows us," Katara said gently, careful not to dim Aang's excitement while also issuing a soft rebuke. "He comes from town to our small county and likely has far more connections to true society than we could ever dream."

"Oh, no, not  _ that _ society," replied Aang as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. " _ Our _ society. The important type of society."

Sokka laughed. "Only you would say this county contained the only people worth knowing," he said. "But Aang is right. Mr. Zuko will need someone to introduce him to all the important people."

"Why must it be us?" asked Katara, unwilling to play nursemaid to a man who Sokka had already implied to be "ill-tempered".

"Who better?" Aang said, leaning forward in his chair. "As the oldest family in the county, should it not fall to you?"

"The oldest does not mean the best," Katara said. "If he is looking for the best of society, I'm sure the Bei Fongs would be a much better choice for him, don't you think?"

The men looked at one another, their nervousness palpable, and Katara knew their concern but ignored it.

"Don't you think that might be a little too much?" said Aang carefully. "We certainly don't wish to scare the gentleman off that quickly."

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Katara said. "I can assure you that there is nothing at all wrong with the Bei Fongs."

"Katara —” Sokka said.

She smiled at him.

Sokka, who would never have declared himself clever, knew he was out of his depth and stopped speaking. Mr. Zuko would, of course, have to meet the Bei Fongs at some point. They were the most influential family in the county and their estate was by far the finest, for all that it was relatively new. And Mrs. Bei Fong would have no qualms at all about inserting herself into Mr. Zuko's presence, whether he wanted her to or not. Katara was being pert, and Sokka had no wish to argue with her about something they both understood. Allowing the Bei Fongs to monopolize Mr. Zuko's time would not be good for anyone, least of all Mr. Zuko himself.

What he did not understand was his sister's unwillingness to interact with their new neighbor without having met him at all.

However, he knew Katara's mind nearly as well as he knew his own, and if she had decided on a thing, it would take an army's effort for her to change it. It would be easier, he thought, to go alone and introduce Mr. Zuko to the rest of the neighborhood without asking Katara's permission. It wasn't as though he needed it, despite what she might think.

"Well, that's neither here nor there," Sokka said finally. "I have made my introductions and secured a visit and the Bei Fongs may do what they please. They will simply have to know that they have come late and that in itself is unforgivable."

"As you say," Katara said slyly without meaning it at all.

Sokka looked down his nose at his sister, sniffed once, and decided to ignore her for the rest of the afternoon.


	2. In Which a New Acquaintance is Unfortunately Made

True to his word, it was not at all long before Sokka went to call on Mr. Zuko again, this time in a more formal setting.

He had debated whether or not to bring his sister along, given her attitude towards the entire process, but in the end found that it would be better to introduce her now in a situation where she might be forced into civility, rather than allowing her to meet the gentleman in question in the village or on the road somewhere. Katara could, when she tried, be a charming young lady, but sometimes she chose not to try. She had the tongue of a rogue and the temper of a spinster when she felt she was not given her due, and she nearly always felt that way. Being told to sit at home while Sokka went calling would certainly trigger that particular response.

It was a pretty spring day as they set out towards Caldera Court. They could have walked, as Sokka had the last time, but Sokka had wondered at bringing a woman on foot to a visit like this and was unsure he wanted to put himself in that position. A carriage would have been ideal, but they had none, and so they had taken two placid horses and followed the road around the village and down into the valley where Caldera Court sat.

It was a fine house, large and imposing, with gardens that had been attended only occasionally in the previous years, giving it a touch of the wild. As they rode up the main drive, Katara spotted several harried gardeners with shovels and pruners trying desperately to tame the place on very short notice. 

"He's brought a full staff," she said with some surprise. "Sokka, I thought you meant he was only renting the house and would return to town, but this appears to be far more than that."

"Did I say that?" Sokka said, finding himself unclear on exactly what he had told Katara. "Frankly, I don't know. I was told he was renting the house only, but I must say, there is a lot of bustle for someone not planning on staying long. Perhaps we shall be graced with Mr. Zuko's company for a while yet."

Katara fell silent at that, still fighting against the urge to dislike the gentleman on principle. She reminded herself not to be uncharitable just because Sokka had not made a glowing endorsement. There were, of course, plenty of people with whom Sokka was less than friendly, and his judgment of why this should be did not always stick to the logical. There were plenty of very good reasons for Sokka to have gotten in wrong with Mr. Zuko, and for Katara to take his opinion directly would make her a fool.

At last, they reached the house itself and were greeted at the door and led inside. It was a quite lovely house, Katara found as she walked into the front hall. She had never been in Caldera Court before because there had never been anyone to see here. It was clear that they were in the middle of a very thorough cleaning and reorganization. Maids paused only briefly in their work to curtsy to the two newcomers.

"Please, this way," said a footman, appearing at Sokka's shoulder and scaring him nearly to death. "I apologize for the mess. We have not yet completed our renovations. Let me take you to a part of the house that has been completed."

Sokka nodded and he offered Katara an arm, which she took. They followed behind the footman who brought them to a sitting room deeper in the house and opened the door, announcing, "Mr. Sokka and his sister, Miss Katara, of the Southwinter estate."

They entered a room appointed for a much higher class of people than the county had to offer. It was quite lovely, even Katara was forced to admit. Never in her twenty years had she seen the equal. This was clearly a room built for receiving more important people than the neighbors, but perhaps that was why it had been the first to be cleared for visitors. It certainly made an impression, with its dark walls, beautifully carved furniture, and portraits done in a fine and deft hand, the kind that could only have come with good breeding and a steep price.

Katara tried to hide her awe as she looked around the room, but Sokka, who was less subtle, did not. "Well," he said loudly. "This is a lovely house."

"Thank you," said one of the two men sitting in the room. He rose to meet them, coming forward from his chair with hands outstretched. Katara pulled her attention away from the room as the man shook hands with Sokka and then took her own and bowed over it, a treatment she so rarely received. He was a man of some years, his hair and beard gone gray with age. Though the quality of his garments was quite good and the tailoring impeccable, he wore them with a casual air that made them, and him, seem like less than they were. But his face was open and friendly, and his smile so infectious that Katara forgot about his manner.

This was Mr. Iroh, the uncle of the gentleman of the house, and introductions were swiftly made. Despite her secret desire to dislike everything about the house and its occupants, Katara found it impossible not to return Mr. Iroh's smiles. He invited them in and settled them together on a sofa before once again taking a seat in the chair he had abandoned.

Finally, Katara was able to take a look at the young man who had not risen when they entered and immediately discovered some of Sokka's reticence to speak of him in glowing terms.

Mr. Zuko was not a handsome man. Some horrible accident or misstep had gifted him with a large and horrible scar around his left eye, making his face look lopsided and monstrous. He did nothing to correct the impression, for his face was set in an expression of haughty sharpness which did not invite conversation.

Katara, who had manners enough when she chose to use them, tried her very best not to stare at Mr. Zuko's ruined face, but found it quite difficult. He set his eyes on her even as she looked at him, and when she managed to offer him the smallest of smiles, he did not return it.

"Mr. Zuko," said Sokka with a nod of his head. "It is so good of you to extend an invitation to us. May I present to you my sister, Miss Katara?"

The introduction should have been done standing and Katara found herself at something of a loss about how to proceed. Mr. Zuko, however, did not. He simply nodded once and said, "It is a pleasure."

"Likewise," Katara said out of sheer instinct and tried to pull her eyes from Mr. Zuko once again. It took a moment, since he was still looking at her and it felt quite rude to turn her attention away. In the end, however, Katara chose to risk rudeness rather than continue an interaction she would rather not be having.

Mr. Iroh turned out to be her savior as well, jumping in to ask about Southwinter, and the village, and the people in it. Sokka took much of the conversation, with occasional assides to Katara when it came to those people she knew better than he did. Katara found herself much absorbed with the contrast between Mr. Iroh and his nephew, wondering what sort of strange coincidence of stars Mr. Zuko had been born under to make his temperament so base and cold while Mr. Iroh had such a gift of joy and happiness.

Mr. Zuko was near silent for most of the conversation. He appeared to be listening, which Katara found an interesting contrast, but he did not contribute to the discourse around him. Why would he keep so silent with his own guests? Katara resolved to ignore him, if he would do the same to her, but yet found herself unable to do so. His very presence drew her eye.

While Sokka seemed immune to, or perhaps ignorant of, the tension in the room, Mr. Iroh was not. Like Katara, he looked often at his nephew, asking questions that seemed crafted to pull Mr. Zuko into the conversation, but to no avail. However, under all his bluster and his smiles, Mr. Iroh revealed himself to have a stubborn core, for when he finally grew tired of Mr. Zuko's silence, he said, "It is such a lovely day, and you young people should not be stuck in this house with an old man. Nephew, I believe it is now time for you to take Mr. Sokka and Miss Katara on a tour around the gardens. It is quite lovely, even though somewhat overgrown. I am sure you will love it."

"Yes, of course," Sokka said, standing at once. "I certainly would love to hear what you're going to be doing with the place. Caldera Court is such a fine house, and for so long has been held in a state of purgatory with no residents. We have never before gotten the chance to see it, or its grounds."

"Good, good," Mr. Iroh said, clapping his hands. "Mr. Zuko, if you please?"

Mr. Zuko rose and, to Katara's surprise, executed a perfect bow in her direction and offered her his arm. "Miss Katara, if you would," he said.

Unsure of what else to do, Katara put her hand on Mr. Zuko's arm, being careful to touch him only with her fingertips. For all the unexpected politeness and manner he seemed capable of, she had no wish to be escorted by such a silent and dour man. There was little she could say to extract herself however, as Sokka fell in beside them and Mr. Zuko led them out of the great house and into the gardens.

They walked in silence for a moment and Katara found herself even more uncomfortable. Mr. Zuko held himself very straight, except for his head which drooped like a wilted flower. Given the damage done to his face, Katara couldn't blame him for wanting to hide, but since he was so uncomfortable about it, and since she found herself disliking his company so much, she resolved not to let the scar bother her as it bothered him. She must not judge the man based on appearance alone, she reminded herself, and if it upset him to be looked at, she would do it all the more.

"How long do you plan to stay?" she asked when the silence grew too much for her.

"A long while," Mr. Zuko said in his sullen tones. "I have only rarely been to this part of the country and have ... decided to take up a permanent residence here. I shall be in the neighborhood for the foreseeable future."

Katara's heart sank, but she gave him her best smile. "It will be very nice to have you and your uncle in our small society," she said. "And it will be just the two of you?"

"Yes," Mr. Zuko said.

There was another gap in conversation as Katara desperately tried to find some way to continue. 

"The grounds are quite extensive, are they not?" said Sokka, coming to the rescue. He tilted his hat to keep the sun from his eyes as he looked out over the lawn. "I'm sure you must have quite the army of gardeners and groundskeepers to trim back the wilderness."

"Yes," Mr. Zuko said. "My uncle tells me it will be quite the undertaking."

"Your uncle seems a very kind man," Katara said. "You must be very happy to have him here."

"Always," Mr. Zuko said, though Katara detected a certain roughness to his tone that conveyed some emotion beyond her ken. "He has taken the reins of the house and property, and I could not wrest them from him if I tried. It keeps him busy."

"How kind of him," Katara said. Her own house had no one else to do any of the work for her, and she found herself up late some nights working on the numbers and budgeting. Sokka was always one for a grand plan and a complicated schedule, but his work often had to be checked over again and the two siblings spent far too much time meeting with bankers who shook their heads and wondered aloud how much longer Southwinter would be able to stay in the possession of its current occupants. For that reason, Katara would have given anything to have a contingent of servants like Caldera Court boasted, or an uncle who could help with the management. However, she tried not to let that show on her face, just as she tried not to let Mr. Zuko's good fortune further sour her already low opinion of him.

On their walk across the grounds, Katara learned a few more things about Mr. Zuko's character. He did not enjoy speaking and answered questions in such a way that it made it difficult to continue the conversation. Here Sokka's ability to chatter became quite important, since he could easily fill in both sides of the conversation with only a word or two from Katara or Mr. Zuko. When she could, Katara offered her brother a metaphorical hand, but it was difficult in such close proximity to the quiet, sullen form upon whose arm she walked. She also learned that despite his lack of manners in terms of conversation, Mr. Zuko was quite capable of showing decorum and acting with honor when he chose to. He was careful to keep her away from the wilder parts of the lawn and escorted her around puddles and escaping rose bushes with grace, though in total silence. At one point in the walk, they came to a place where the path had been cracked by the roots of a nearby tree, forming a shallow but muddy pool, and Mr. Zuko, with no thought for his own comfort, stepped directly into it in order to keep Katara on the narrow ledge of dry stone and to keep the hem of her dress from being sullied. It was so in contrast with his usual manner that Katara was quite stunned by the gesture, and only a moment later thought to offer her thanks, but he refused to have it, only sinking further into his dark silence.

When they returned to the house, which was still busy with servants, Mr. Zuko deposited them in the same sitting room where Mr. Iroh still waited, bowed to them, and left without saying another word. Katara found herself staring after him in a mixture of confusion and dislike as Sokka made their goodbyes to Mr. Iroh. Only for a moment, to express her own gratitude for the visit, did Katara come out of her revery before allowing Sokka to lead her from the house and back to their horses which the groomsmen had prepared for them.

When they were suitably far from the house, Katara turned to Sokka and said, "I believe you failed to fully explain the kind of man Mr. Zuko was."

Sokka shook his head. "If I did, it was only because I myself have difficulty understanding him," he said. "Although our previous meeting was much shorter and while I had my suspicions about his character, they are now confirmed."

"If you have any confirmed information on his character, I would be happy to hear it," Katara said acerbically.

Sokka sighed. "In that I have merely confirmed that his manner is both inappropriate and pristine, his thoughts are a mystery, and his comportment is somewhere between a beggar in the street and a king in a castle. I can tell you very little about Mr. Zuko's qualities because he expresses so many all at the same time. The overall effect is one of great surprise from moment to moment. In all, I find him to be a very strange man."

Katara found herself unable to disagree with that sentiment, even if she would have liked to. She considered the visit for another while longer as the horses carried them towards Southwinter, and then finally expressed that she could not fathom how Mr. Iroh, who seemed such an upstanding sort of gentleman, allowed his nephew to act in the manner they had seen.

Sokka snapped his fingers. "You have," he told her, "landed on what I believe to be the most confusing part of an already confusing situation. Perhaps the younger was raised far from his uncle's good influences, by a father who did not have Mr. Iroh's graces. Perhaps it is simply that Mr. Zuko's humor to be cold and proud and he has been instilled with some part of his uncle's goodness which fights against his nature. I can only present you with theories as I do not know their minds, but I agree with you, sister, that perhaps that is the most tangled knot of all."

"Must we really introduce Mr. Zuko around the village?" said Katara who was finding it difficult not to let her feelings about  _ that _ particular engagement show in her voice.

"We must," Sokka confirmed. "Leaving it to the Bei Fongs would, I believe, be a fate we would not wish even on one with Mr. Zuko's temperament."

Katara gave a moment of consideration to that, thinking of how much pleasure she might derive from the idea of Miss Bei Fong unleashed on Mr. Zuko, but Sokka was right. It would have been unkind beyond measure to allow such a thing to happen. Better that she and Sokka be the ones to undertake the task.

Unfortunately for Katara, that meant that she might be the one who would have to spend her spare time witht the gentleman.

For his part, however, Mr. Zuko did not share Katara's dislike. Though he was, in fact, a very proud man, his demeanor was a complex concoction of warring feelings beyond his sullen exterior. But he did not dislike the siblings. Quite the opposite in fact. As soon as they left, though he had not been present for the goodbyes, he returned to the parlor where his uncle still sat and looked through the curtains at the horses retreating down the drive. Mr. Iroh said nothing to interrupt his nephew, now well used to Mr. Zuko's moods and saving the scoldings he would deliver for the time they would be best received.

After some time, Mr. Iroh finally asked Mr. Zuko what he was looking at, as the horses had moved far out of sight.

"I had heard," Mr. Zuko said in response, "that Southwinter was an estate of very little note. And yet, they are the first to come visiting. It speaks to a level of sophistication I had not expected."

"And they are such nice young people," said Mr. Iroh, still not rising so as not to scare Mr. Zuko out of his revery. "Very polite. Whatever their failings may be in the area of inheritance, they were raised by the right sort of people."

"I must agree," Mr. Zuko said. "Both very kind, despite ..." And here he shook himself. "Well, despite the misfortunes they may suffer. Mr. Sokka seems a good natured gentleman, certainly. And his sister ..."

Mr. Iroh waited for a moment, then prompted, "Yes? The sister?"

"A quite ... good tempered young lady," Mr. Zuko said firmly. It had not been what he wished to say, but his thoughts were in something of a jumble in regards to the strinkingness of that lady and he did not trust his ability to speak to his uncle about it. He was, of course, aware that he had not behaved in the correct way with the two siblings, and now he regretted it, but Mr. Zuko's own circumstances made it quite difficult for him to comport himself properly. His upbringing, while filled with luxury, education, and wealth, had not seen fit to instill him with the correct sense of propriety and manners. It was only now at two-and-twenty that he found himself lacking and in need of development.

Mr. Iroh did not need this explained to him, as it had been the fault of his own younger brother that led to Mr. Zuko's deficiencies. He also did not need to be told that Mr. Zuko's thoughts on Miss Katara were perhaps not limited to her good manners.

"I shall call upon them soon at their house," Mr. Zuko concluded, letting the curtains fall over the window again.

Mr. Iroh nodded, smiling, and wondered how long it would be before his nephew made a fool of himself.


	3. In Which Relationships Sour Even Further

Though they may have made light of the situation, introducing Mr. Zuko to the Bei Fong family was of paramount importance, at least in Sokka's mind. They were of some importance in the village and had always exuded the easy confidence and poise of the well-to-do. Unfortunately, they also had a reputation for unkindness and Sokka, who had his own feelings on Mr. Zuko and his uncle, did not wish the Bei Fongs to be the ones deciding on how the new arrivals would be received. 

To that end, he organized a small visiting party — himself, his sister, and Mr. Aang — to go along with Misters Zuko and Iroh to meet with the wealthiest family in the county. Though Mr. Iroh was older than the rest of the party, Sokka decided he would include him, since the elder Bei Fongs were closer to Mr. Iroh's years and experience. It might also allow Mr. Zuko the dubious pleasure of meeting Miss Bei Fong in a way that would exclude her parents, as Miss Bei Fong was often, let us say, of two minds.

It was a lovely late summer day when the company set out from Southwinter, having arranged to meet Mr. Iroh and his nephew at the Bei Fong estate. Sokka hired a carriage to convey them hence, as arriving on horseback or on foot would doubtless merit some comment from the elder Bei Fongs and Sokka was greatly interested in avoiding that. He already had his hands full with his sister, who despite all her manners, was not pleased with the visit. Partly, Katara worried about Mr. Zuko's behavior, given what she had already seen from him, but partly there was the constant worry with these kinds of visits about what Miss Bei Fong might say or do.

She did not tell Sokka of her concerns, but her unwillingness to make the visit was obvious to her two companions, both of whom shared the tendency to be somewhat oblivious. Sokka had to remind her twice to wear something more suited to the Bei Fong's home, and she was so out of sorts that Aang spent part of the morning trying every childish trick he had to cheer her up. Katara smiled for him as much as she could, unwilling to make Aang think he was the source of her ill humor, but it did very little to discourage the mood. When they finally got into the carriage to make their way across the village, Katara spoke very little and watched the drive pass them by out the small window with no comments.

Since she had been watching the outside rather than participating in the conversation, she was the first to notice Mr. Zuko's elegant carriage already parked in the drive of the Bei Fong estate. The gentleman was just stepping out of it when they pulled up behind him and Katara watched suspiciously as he straightened and adjusted his coat. Her opinion could not be trusted in this manner, as she had decided to regard nearly everything Mr. Zuko did with the same suspicion, and it was a good thing that he did not seem to see or care about their carriage as it pulled up, and it was in fact his uncle who stepped up to help Katara down from it when the horses stopped.

As intent as Katara was on showing the same lack of manners that Mr. Zuko did, she was powerless against Mr. Iroh's charm, and smiled at him as he helped her out. "Miss Katara," he said, inclining his head to her as she took his hand. "How radient you look today, like the first snows of winter. I am honored that you and your brother have invited us along." He winked conspiratorially at her. "Though it seems an old man like me would have little to do in a visit made by so many bright, energetic young people."

Katara laughed and assured him that this was not the case at all and that she, for one, was happy to have him there. She certainly was, especially given the way in which Mr. Zuko sometimes behaved. Aang stepped down from the carriage next and introductions were made. Mr. Iroh and Aang seemed to have much in common and Katara was quite happy to let them talk as Mr. Iroh escorted her towards the door with Mr. Zuko and Sokka behind.

The Bei Fong estate was quite expansive, coming almost close to bad taste in its ostentatious facade and perfectly maintained gardens. The inside was far too large for the family, which was quite small, but all of the visitors knew better than to mention that. For Mr. Zuko, this kind of ornamentation was more familiar than not, reminding him of his own home and childhood, which put him in a rather sour mood. Katara, Sokka, and Aang, on the other hand, were used to the Bei Fong's design choices and ignored them with ease.

They were met in the parlor by the Bei Fongs, both neat and perfectly poised, and their daughter who sat the pianoforte with her hands upon the keys, though she did not play. When they entered, the elder Bei Fongs rose to greet the party, but Miss Bei Fong stayed seated. While Katara had taken offense to similar behavior from Mr. Zuko quite recently, she did not have the same reaction to Miss Bei Fong. Like the house's decorations, it was simply something she was used to.

Mr. Zuko, however, found himself looking at the girl, who was young and delicate, though not precisely handsome. Her face was guarded, her eyes cast down. As he looked at her, she took her hands from the keys and placed them instead in her lap, looking up at everyone and nothing, her eyes somewhat vacant.

Mr Bei Fong crossed the room and leaned down to take his daughter's hand, drawing her up from the bench. "Mr. Iroh, Mr. Zuko," he said to the two strangers. "May I present to you my daughter, Toph?"

Miss Toph nodded towards them. "It is a pleasure to make your aquanitence," she said.

Mr. Zuko bowed and Mr. Iroh did the same. Mr. Zuko found the girl's attitude somewhat concerning as she appeared flighty and disconnected from the rest of the party, but when he cast a look in the direction of Sokka and Katara, it became clear that they did not see any sort of strangeness. Mr. Zuko, who was not unaware of his own lacking social acumen, made the clever choice to simply ignore Miss Bei Fong's oddities.

After the usual conversation, where Mr. and Mrs. Bei Fong sized up Mr. Zuko as though he were a prized pig, Mr. Bei Fong suggested that the young people take a walk through the gardens. Sokka agreed at once, hoping to remove himself and the others from the house to get the worst of the visit over with quickly and allow certain realities to come to light for Mr. Zuko. They left Mr. Iroh sitting with the Bei Fongs, engaged in deep conversation about the goings on in town at the time of year. Mr. Zuko moved towards Miss Bei Fong to escort her, under the insistent and watchful eye of his uncle, but to his surprise, Sokka intercepted him, shaking his head and taking Miss Toph's hand to set on his arm in a manner that Mr. Zuko thought quite forward.

Katara took Aang's arm in the manner of someone well used to doing so, and Mr. Zuko found himself walking on Katara's other side. She, of course, was not pleased by this development but found that she had spoken to him very little this day and it was likely her turn to entertain the taciturn gentleman.

"Is there some fondness between your brother and Miss Bei Fong?" Zuko asked as they walked behind the duo in question.

Katara laughed outright at that and did not bother to cover her amusement. "No, of course not," she said. "Nothing more than the fondness born from friendship."

"He is quite familiar with her," Mr. Zuko pointed out.

Katara shook her head. "Miss Toph is a special case," she told him. "She has a different set of social norms. There are some other people in this party like that as well. It would be kinder not to cast stones, I think."

Mr. Zuko took that as the insult it was intended and fell silent.

However, it was not long until he was surprised from his souring mood by Miss Toph exclaiming in a far different voice than she had used inside the house, "Oh! it is so good to be away from them. Hello, Sokka, Katara, Aang. Thank you for rescuing me for at least the morning. Tell me about our new sullen friend, since he seems to be saying so little." With that she twisted around towards Zuko in a less than poised manner and smiled at him with an enthusiasm and abandon that was usually only seen on the faces of children and sailors.

"We have introduced you already," Katara said, already tired of Miss Toph's antics. "Mr. Zuko, remember? Were you paying attention or has your acting career engulfed you so much your hearing has gone as well?"

Directed towards anyone else, her rudeness and acerbic tongue would have her disinvited from every dinner party for the next twenty years, but Toph simply laughed with the same openness she had already displayed. "Well played, Katara," she said. "We must mock those poor unfortunate souls like me who were born without one of our Heaven given senses. I have not suffered enough at the cruel hands of fate."

"It was your common sense, I think," Katara said sweetly. "That was the missing one, correct?"

Again, Miss Toph laughed and Katara cast a small look at Mr. Zuko to judge his reaction. Despite his own lack of decorum at times, he seemed somewhat distressed by the conversation between the two ladies. This improved Katara's mood, as she had expected in this moment. While she, like most people who were aware of Miss Toph's true nature, found the other lady to be somewhat exhausting, she also enjoyed the gentleman's discomfort. It was likely cruel of her to do so, and yet Katara did not feel the usual twinge of guilt she should in this situation.

"I ..." said Mr. Zuko after a long moment of silence. "Forgive me, Miss Bei Fong, but I seem to have missed some important clues to decipher the conversation."

"Miss Bei Fong was indeed born without one of her senses," said Aang, shaking his head at Katara in holy judgement, "but it was her sight, and nothing to do with her mind."

Mr. Zuko examined Miss Toph again, more boldly now, as though attempting to ascertain Aang's claim. "My ... condolences, Miss Bei Fong," he said as though he was unsure of exactly what he meant.

"No condolences necessary," Miss Toph said in her too loud way. "One cannot miss what they have never had."

Sokka and Miss Toph began a good natured argument about that statement, pulling away from the other three. Katara saw that Aang was looking after them and could see that he was holding himself back from running to catch up. She had no real wish to give up her hold on him, but she was not a cruel girl and knew better than to keep a young man from the exercise he wanted, so she paused to allow him to go forward while impressing herself on Mr. Zuko for an escort, though she had no true need of one.

It was as uncomfortable for both of them this time as it had been before, and Katara immediately regretted giving Aang free rein. However, she had no desire to run through the gardens like a wayward child and so her options had been limited. Mr. Zuko, like herself, seemed content to simply walk along beside her and take in the well cared for walk and the neat lawns. In anyone else, she would have thought his silence appallingly bad manners, but it had become clear that manners were not something Mr. Zuko cared about and she was happy that his silence was thoughtful rather than morose.

After a long time, he said, "Miss Bei Fong is quite a character."

Katara hid a smile behind her hand. "Yes," she said, attempting seriousness. "I had noticed that myself."

"I had expected," Mr. Zuko said with anticipated bluntness, "for a young lady without sight to be different. More demure."

"Like she is with her family?" Katara asked.

"Yes."

Katara sighed. "Miss Toph puts on one of the best performances I have ever seen. She has contrived to be a small, delicate, dutiful daughter for her parents because that is what they expect of her. It is only with others, when they are not present or not looking, that she is allowed to be herself."

"Herself is crass and uncouth?"

"The same could be said for other people in this party as well, don't you think?" Katara said, matching Mr. Zuko's bluntness with a small pinch of her own.

Mr. Zuko fell silent again.

Katara thought perhaps she had offended him again and the rest of the walk would at least be quiet, but that was not to be. "That is the second time you have accused me of lacking manners," Mr. Zuko said.

"I never said it was you."

Mr. Zuko's face became a masterpiece of annoyance. Briefly, Ktara was afraid of that face, for she had no idea how that emotion might express itself towards her, but then she changed her mind. Being afraid of the gentleman would be too similar to allowing him to win and Katara had no intention at all of doing that.

To his credit, Mr. Zuko kept her on his arm, though he was once again as stiff and silent as a board. While Katara mourned the lack of conversation on general principle, a silent Mr. Zuko may have been the best she could hope for. The silence continued to both of their discomfort, with Katara looking outward at the elegant gardens, and Mr. Zuko staring down at his own feet. It was truly as if each of them walked alone through the Bei Fong estate, despite their close proximity.

At last, Aang returned to them, slightly winded from his quick pace. "Sokka and Miss Toph have taken a seat ahead," Aang said, waving a hand with little propriety but great enthusiasm. "They sent me to come escort you both to join them, and to tell Katara to hurry up." Aang offered Katara an apologetic visage. "That was from Sokka."

"Thank you," Katara said, hiding a smile behind her hand. It could have come from either one of their companions, though since it had been directed specifically at her, Sokka had seemed the likely culprit. She longed to let go of Mr. Zuko's hand and run after her brother as though they were children, but that would be unseemly at best, and scandalous at worst, depending on who might be looking and what opinions they might form. Instead, Katara forced herself to walk at the slower pace Zuko had set and not bolt after her brother like a foal on its first day in the pasture.

When they finally reached Toph and Sokka, the two were engaged in a friendly if quite loud argument. Katara sat down on a bench across from them, adjusting the brim of her bonnet to keep the morning sun from her eyes. Mr. Zuko, with no thought to it, sat down on yet a third bench, leaving Aang to keep Katara company. Katara looked over at Mr. Zuko but he was looking away, his arms folded. It seemed that he disliked her just as much as she disliked him, which Katara thought was for the best.

In fact, on this matter Katara was quite wrong. In her interest in disliking Mr. Zuko, she had chosen to put her own feelings onto the gentleman when in fact, he did not feel them at all. Mr. Zuko was instead berating himself internally for having once again upset Miss Katara. He was not a man given much to examining his own feelings, and so even he did not know why he was so upset, though you may guess at the reason. Instead, he had couched it all in his uncle's feelings about the matter and how disappointed Mr. Iroh would be upon learning that his nephew had once again alienated a kind woman with his manner, his lack of conversation, and, to Mr. Zuko's mind, his ruined face.

For all his silence and grumblings, Mr. Zuko was at heart a quite sensible man, given to great fits of emotion. His temperament, however, was so grim that the feelings led him to a darker nature, to long depressions and bouts of anger. His childhood had been lavish, but quite cold and so he had never developed the head for sense that most young people eventually managed. And never was he more aware of this when faced with a pretty, sociable young lady who seemed to be waiting for him to say something witty and interesting, when inside his head was only confusion.

In all, Mr. Zuko was declaring this outing a failure from beginning to end.

Oblivious to the silent mutterings of Mr. Zuko, or the fiery annoyance of Miss Katara, the other young people conversed in a friendly, laughing manner. 

Aang took the opportunity to engage Katara in conversation, while Toph and Sokka continued their argument, leaving Mr. Zuko alone with his thoughts. 

But it was only for a moment, because despite her aggressive nature unfitting of a young lady, Miss Toph was quite aware of some of the more delicate aspects of society. "Mr. Zuko," she said, having determined that she had heard very little from the gentleman and intent on fixing that, "I hear from Sokka that you have spent most of your time in town these last years. Pray, tell us of some of the fashions there that have yet to reach our county."

Mr. Zuko cleared his throat. "You'll have to forgive me, Miss Bei Fong," he said. "I am not usually one to care much about the latest fashions and I find myself at a loss."

"Well, how fortunate!" said Miss Toph, clapping her hands together. "For I also find myself not caring much for it."

Mr. Zuko went pale and opened his mouth to apologize again to Miss Toph for forgetting her condition, but Sokka laughed loudly and shook his head at Mr. Zuko.

"Don't take her seriously," he said, both to Mr. Zuko and to Miss Toph as though comforting the one and chastising the other. "She believes herself to be quite clever when she manages to get a new acquaintance stuck in that trap the first time. I believe we've all had it used on us, some more than once."

"It really is an appalling lack of decorum," Katara said with her nose in the air. "You would think a young lady of her standing —”

"Oh, Katara, pish," said Miss Toph, shaking her head. "Pray do not take this the wrong way, but I don't think any of us came out to be repeatedly lectured by some old maid about how we should conduct ourselves. Especially someone like you."

"I don't believe," Katara said, greatly offended, "that there is a  _ right _ way to take an insult like that."

"Toph," said Aang quietly, in what the siblings had learned to think of as his 'vicar voice', "do not lower yourself to the gutter in order to escape expectations. You know that were it not for Katara, and for Sokka, you would have very few visits from anyone at all, regardless of who your parents are and how much you will have a year. We appreciate the barbs of your humor, but not when they are so sharp and so pointed. Please, Toph, mind what you say and who you say it to, lest you alienate the only people who truly know and care about you."

Miss Toph, who despite being pale and nearly as small as a child, was not much younger than Aang himself, pursed her lips and shook her head at him. "I used to put your head in the fish pond, Aang," she told him seriously. "And I may think about doing it again if you keep lecturing."

But Aang smiled at that and the two siblings relaxed, knowing he had broken the sharp tip off Toph's personality yet again.

Katara, however, was not altogether past Toph's words and found that she needed more air and less sitting to clear her head of them. She thought of asking Aang to come along with her, but he had engaged with Toph yet again and Katara was more interested in leaving him there than trying to pull him out and forcing him to take sides. It was, she had always thought, his job to stay in the middle, on the righteous path where all members of the clergy belonged, and so it would be up to her to take the high road all on her own rather than continuing to stew in her anger.

Katara rose and made her excuses. She turned down a less used path, following the bend around the hedges until she was away from the rest of the party. There were no benches here for her to sink onto, despite her wish to do just that, so instead she slowed her progress and reached out to run one hand along the sculpted shrubbery beside her. The garden was quite calming and not for the first time did she wish her family had the same fortune as the Bei Fongs to be able to create an oasis like this where she could hide and not be bothered. But that was not to be.

She heard footsteps on the path behind her and turned, expecting Aang, but was greatly surprised and dismayed to find Mr. Zuko standing there, the sleeve of his jacket crushed in his hand. His eyes had a wildness to them that Katara could not interpret but which made her take a large step backwards towards the hedge. She expected Mr. Zuko to speak, but he did not.

Despite the discomfort of his presence, she drew herself up to face him and scowled. "Mr. Zuko," she said, with as little manner as he showed. "I did not ask for any company at all."

"I ..." said Mr. Zuko, looking around wildly as though he too was surprised to find himself here. "I wish to apologize."

He sounded quite unsure and Katara was in no mood to accept an apology from someone who did not wish to give it. "No apology is necessary," she said stiffly, though she did in fact think one was required. "Not from you at the very least. I am well used to Miss Bei Fong's sharp tongue and even when it becomes too wicked, I do not take any personal offence. If anyone were to apologize to me in this particular moment, I would wish it to be her, not you here on her behalf, a girl you have just now met."

"I wasn't apologizing for her," said Mr. Zuko angrily, which Katara had not expected at all.

Stewing in her own state of feeling, she fell silent and told herself that necessary friend or not, if he chose to lash out at her in the same way Miss Toph had done, she would certainly lash back and would not censor herself.

Mr. Zuko drew a shaking breath and said, "I wish to know what exactly I have done to offend you so."

Katara usually prided herself on being quite level headed. It was not something other people would have said about her — not her father or her brother or even Mr. Aang who was wont to give her the full benefit of every doubt — but it was what Katara wished herself to be. But in this particular moment, with a man so new to her company, who had abused her good will in such a way that she could not give him that same benefit that she herself had received, Katara lost her head completely.

"What have you  _ not _ done, sir?" she said to him with some heat, careful only to keep her voice quiet enough that she would not disturb their other companions. "You have been intolerably rude through our entire aquanitence. While your uncle displays the manners of a true gentleman, you have no such thing and repeatedly insult all around you with your lack. You treat all of us as though we are beneath you — far beneath you — and you barely engage in the necessary conversation required of your station. In others, I might call this pride, but you have moved beyond such a petty term. You appear intentionally rude, no more than a common brute, and I do not have any desire for your company."

Throughout this speech, Mr. Zuko's anger and vexation with Miss Katara mounted to unheard of levels, and though he was well aware that yelling back at a lady was frowned upon both by society and by his uncle in particular, he was unable to contain himself. "You are right," he told her, though he seethed with rage even as he observed the spots of red anger high in her cheeks. "My custom and decorum can be lacking and it is a deficiency I am well aware of. But you, Miss Katara, your behavior is no more acceptable than mine. Your brother has been perfectly polite, but you, I believe, had resolved to dislike me since before you even met me. I understand that my countinance can be overwhelming. I am not much to look at, that is true. But I must assume it is that that has swayed you into your current disgust in my personage, since not once have you looked upon me with more than disgust."

"You believe it is your face that I find unwholesome?" Katara snapped back.

"I can think of no other thing that might have so immediately swayed you into dislike when you had yet to speak to me, or I to you."

Katara wished to refute this — in fact, it had been Sokka's manner in regards to Mr. Zuko which had soured her on his personage — but she could not deny that the wreckage of his face had left her little reason to change that opinion. From early in their aquanitence, she had thought him an ugly, bad tempered man and had wanted nothing to do with him. But she would not admit that to him, and additionally, she did not like to be told that she was so shallow as to judge based on Mr. Zuko's face. In fact, she had taken into account his actions in her assessment, though she had willfully ignored any attempts he might have made to rectify the situation.

"It was not the outside that I took umbrage with," Katara said finally, hands shaking with anger, "but the inside."

"As you have gotten to know me so well?" asked Mr. Zuko sharply.

"Well enough!"

Mr. Zuko gave a sharp nod of his head. "Very well then, Miss Katara. It is clear to me that you have made up your mind about what kind of person I am and there will be no changing it. I suggest that, for the sake of everyone in this little village, we simply avoid one another's company as much as possible. If I am, as you say, such a horrible borish creature, and you judge so easily based on nothing more than a few interactions, then perhaps it is best if we no longer speak to one another."

Katara put her chin in the air, the very picture of offended femininity. "I think that's the first wise thing you've said to me, Mr. Zuko, and I would very much appreciate it if we could just go about our business as though the other did not exist."

It was at just that moment that Sokka, Aang, and Miss Toph rounded the corner, laughing and smiling. "Oh, very good," said Sokka, stopping at the sight of them but in no way realizing the situation he had walked in on. "I was wondering where the two of you had gotten off to. Aang has had a wonderful idea to have a picnic next week, weather permitting. Miss Toph has offered us the use of her carriages to convey us out into the countryside where we can leave all this humdrum excuse for society behind for a few hours." He clapped his hands. "Won't that be grand?"

Mr. Zuko and Katara, now muted by the presence of the others, exchanged a look of horror. After having just made a decision to bother one another no further, it was suddenly clear that they would not be allowed to do that at all. Circumstances — and the small circle of society in the county — were conspiring to make them spend as much time in each other's loathsome company as possible.


	4. In Which a Lady Gives Advice and Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been lazy about uploading this. It's a difficult thing to write after fifteen years of learning to write to sound modern and natural and now I have to write to sound like a British lady from 1810. Anyway, here's some Suki.

For the next week, Katara managed to avoid Mr. Zuko, just as she had planned, but there was still the unfortunate picnic to consider. Despite her delicate objections, Aang had set about planning the event with much enthusiasm, and Katara had not the heart to tell him no. She desperately hoped that the fair weather would break and ruin everything, allowing her to ignore the problem entirely, but to her disgust, the days were sunny and beautiful. When a day was finally agreed on and all the arrangements had been made, Katara found herself stranded without a way to escape from the trap she'd made for herself.

"Would you stop that pacing?" Sokka asked her as she passed by the sofa for the third time. "What has gotten into you, Katara? Your lack of composure is out of character. Is this something about a dress? Or a heartbreak? Those are what girls care about, isn't that right?"

"I care about far more things than that!" Katara cried, putting her hand to her throat. "Perhaps if you pulled your gaze away from that useless novel you're perusing, you would see for yourself what the problem is."

Sokka set the book down before him, his expression perturbed. "I don't see how there's a call for that kind of insult," he said in the voice that most resembled their grandmother. "If you have some concern, simply voice it and I, as your elder brother and guardian, will take care of it."

"You are  _ not _ my guardian," Katara pointed out. "And I simply ... do not wish to attend today's social gathering."

"No picnic?" Sokka said, looking askance. "Whyever not? The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and we have a carriage being sent for us. Pray, sister dearest, what is it about these things that you take such offense to."

Katara checked out the window to make sure that said carriage was not about to roll up the drive before settling her attentions on Sokka. "It is not the event I object to," she said firmly, "it is the company."

It could not be said that the intricacies of society were Sokka's strongest suit, but to his credit, he carefully sorted through his sister's acquaintances. It could not be Aang, who was quite dear to her, or even Miss Bei Fong despite her many failings, for though Katara had expressed some pointed comments about Miss Bei Fong's character in the past, the two girls considered each other friends. Which left only one person in the party who could have so upset Katara's sensibilities.

"What is it," Sokka asked, steepling his fingers in order to give the clear appearance of a clever deduction, "about Mr. Zuko that displeases you so much?"

"I never said it was because of Mr. Zuko," Katara said.

The sharpness of her tone only confirmed to Sokka that he had the right of it. "I see," he said, again picking up his book. "Well, if that is the case, then this picnic can continue without incident."

Katara fell silent, annoyed that Sokka had trapped her in a web of her own making, and sat down as delicately as she could by the window. This position was to her best advantage, as she could clearly see anyone who came down the road towards Southwinter before they were able to see her. Despite her reservations about this particular outing, she had taken the time to dress herself in her best walking dress and held her favorite bonnet on her lap in anticipation.

But while she was waiting for the carriage, someone very different came down the driveway.

"Oh!" said Katara in both excitement and alarm. "We have a visitor."

"Yes, we're supposed to have visitors," Sokka said, not looking up from the book.

"Oh no, different visitors," Katara said, getting to her feet and going towards the door. "How unexpected. Sokka, do stop slouching."

For coming up the drive on foot with a basket in her hand was Miss Suki, a young lady from the village, daughter of a tradesman and, despite her station, a dear friend of the family.

Katara, who deep in her heart was actually quite a good sister who loved her brother and wanted him to be happy, considered telling Sokka who it was, but then decided against it. He would be nervous enough upon her arrival and it would do him no good to get himself into a state before their visitor even arrived. Katara fixed her bonnet onto her head in the hallway mirror and walked out into the drive to meet Suki.

"Well, there you are!" Suki said with great excitement. "I had thought to catch you unawares and yet here you are, ready to greet me." She looked Katara over. "And in your best, I see. Am I interrupting something?"

"Not yet," Katara said, crossing the distance and taking Suki's hands, "for we are not yet sent for, but Miss Bei Fong has invited us for a picnic and, to my utter desolation, it does appear to be a nice enough day for it to commence. You have caught us just in time."

"Have I?" Suki said with a laugh. "To me, it seems as though you are looking for a way to get out of this outing, and I regret to inform you that I, of all people, will not be one to stand up to the terrifying young Miss Bei Fong. I value my life a great deal, and will not risk it going into battle against that foul tempered creature, and her family's standing."

Katara sighed and pressed a hand to her cheek. "How I wish, Miss Suki, that the circumstances of your birth were higher than they are, that we might be able to all cower behind you while you protect us from Miss Bei Fong's temper."

Suki's smile was still bright as she waved the hand not holding the basket. "Oh, Katara," she said, shaking her head. "Miss Bei Fong isn't as bad as all that. I would even go so far as to say she likes you."

"I certainly would not," Katara huffed.

Suki laughed again, bell-like in the clear air of the morning, and that was loud enough to attract the attention of Sokka who had come to the door when Katara left it. Though usually he was a man of many words and perhaps even more feelings, Miss Suki was perhaps the one person in the world who could quiet him. Not, however, today, as he stumbled hatless from the doorway, coming towards the two ladies with awkward, coltish strides.

"Miss Suki," he said, executing a bow too deep for the daughter of a tradesman. "What a joy to see you again, and looking radiant as always. Have you come to grace us with your presence on this beautiful day, on the beautiful picnic we shall be attending?"

"I haven't been invited yet," Suki said, though she smiled at Sokka, which made him trip over the gravel in the drive. "Miss Katara was explaining to me all the reasons I should not wish to go."

Sokka leveled a glare at his sister, who did not meet his gaze.

" _ Miss Katara _ ," Sokka said, "is being quite rude. Although I was not the one to plan the outing, I feel quite comfortable inviting you along with us, Miss Suki, and would be honored if you could attend."

Suki looked down at herself as though deciding whether her dress was worthy of such a great invitation. "Mr. Sokka," she said, executing an ironic curtsy to mirror his earlier bow, "I would love to, but I believe I am underdressed for the occasion."

Sokka's face fell. "Ah, well, I ... that is ..."

"Sokka, Miss Suki and I are going to take a turn about the garden," Katara said, taking Suki's arm and handing her basket to Sokka. "Do bring this inside and make sure it comes to no harm. When the carriage comes, please inform me."

Sokka took the basket like a man being assigned command of a battlefield, nodded once, and walked into the house.

Suki shook her head as the two ladies moved towards the lawn. "Mr Sokka has quite outdone himself today," she said. "He is simply overwhelmed by feeling."

"I believe it is you that brings out the worst in him," Katara scolded. "He was quite in control of himself before your arrival. I don't know what it is that happens to the poor man whenever he sees your lovely face."

Suki waved away her accusations. "Your brother is a good, kind man, Katara, but you give me far too much credit. I do not believe there is a face in all the world that is pretty enough for the abilities you assign to mine."

Katara shook her head. She again considered what a shame it was that Suki was not of some peerage, for if she had been, Sokka would likely have asked for her hand years ago. But she was not, and there was still some reticence in the family to marry below their own fallen station. Not, she thought, from herself or Sokka, but there were familial expectations, especially from their absent father, that often made the siblings second guess their actions.

So she would simply have to disagree with Miss Suki on her brother's feelings.

The two ladies walked in silence through the garden, each lost in her own thoughts, before Katara finally cried, "Oh, Suki, I do so wish you could join us for this horrid picnic."

"Horrid?" Suki stopped and took her arm from Katara's, setting her hands upon her hips like an upset governess. "How on earth could you say that a picnic on a day as lovely as this will be horrid?"

"It is not about the day," Katara insisted, unwilling to back down from her opinion on this or any other matter. "It is about the company."

"Are you still worried about Miss Bei Fong?" Suki asked, quite concerned by Katara's overwrought state. "I have told you before and I shall tell you again, she may be a headstrong girl, but you're certainly up to the challenge of her strong personality."

"No, it is not Miss Bei Fong," Katara said and sat down heavily on a nearby rickety bench. "It is Mr. Zuko."

"Mr. Zuko?" Suki asked. "Oh, the gentleman at Caldera Court? I haven't had the pleasure yet, but from all accounts, he is quite well off. I have met his uncle in town last week, and I must say, that particular gentleman is nothing short of charm itself." She seated herself on the bench and took up Katara's hand between her own. "If the uncle is so kind and good, the nephew cannot be as horrible as all that."

Katara clasped Suki's hands in her own. "Oh, but Suki, he is. He has no manners to speak of and treats those around him as though we aren't fit to scrub his floors. He is a cruel, proud man and prone to outbursts of great emotion. I have already twice argued with him in our brief aquanintence, once in a way that no gentleman should speak to a lady." Here she carefully left out that she had spoken to him as no lady should to a gentleman, knowing it would undermine her position with Suki's gentler humors. "Our only agreement had been to not see or speak to each other, to have no further congress or contact, and this picnic has ruined all of that."

"Have you told Sokka of his conduct?" said Suki, who was far sharper than Katara had given her credit for. "It seems like your brother would want to know."

Katara went quite red at that. "I have not," she said. "I don't believe it is any of his business what happens between me and the gentleman."

Suki smiled. "I see," she said. "And from your reticence, can I understand that perhaps it was not just the gentleman whose words were unacceptable for polite company?"

Katara fell to sulking, not looking at Suki who had in too short a time read her too well. It was unfair, Katara decided, that anyone would have that kind of knowledge of another. What she did not stop to consider, of course, was just how much she wore her feelings pulled about her like a cloak and anyone with eyes and perhaps more than an ounce of brain could easily see what it was that bothered her so. It was simply that Suki knew the right way to look.

"Dearest Katara," Suki said in the voice of an older and wiser sister, placing her hand upon Katara's. "You are one of the most passionate ladies I have had the pleasure of meeting. It is obvious to me that any man with similar feelings might find himself quite overwhelmed by that passion."

"Are you saying I have become as sensible as Sokka?" Katara asked.

"No one could do that," Suki said. She herself was made of more sense than any one person should own, and had little time for the humors of the world. In another lady, it would have made her cold and distant, but in Suki, it was simply a tendency towards level-headedness that endeared her both to her father's business and to her friends. In this particular case, Katara's own measured sense had completely deserted her — in the face of someone like Mr. Zuko, she had the uncomfortable feeling that it would continue that pattern — and Suki's calm words and easy logic brought her back to herself.

"So what should I do?" she pleaded.

"You shall hold your head up and go for a picnic on this beautiful day," Suki said with the conviction of a general. "You shall not let Mr. Zuko intimidate you with his foul manners and impressive fortune. You shall instead remind him that he has no powers over you. For he does not, my dearest girl, only what you give him."

"But his standing —” Katara argued.

"Means less than you give it credit for," Suki said firmly. She was not wealthy herself and had never been so. It should have bothered her far more than it did, especially given her relationship with the siblings of Southwinter. But Suki viewed them and the rest of their more fortunate society as overwrought idiots, too wrapped up in the ideas of standing and money to see their own feet before them. She had no ambitions beyond her own personal development and that made her perhaps the only person in the world who could have spoken to Katara in this way.

Katara nodded, not trusting herself to words.

Suki observed Katara's expression with thoughtful eyes. While Katara was friendly and charming with most of the village's residents, she was always held slightly aloof. This distance came both from her and from those she spoke to, for her status and lack thereof was deeply felt by all. For Katara, it was a constant worry in the back of her mind, while for the residents, it was a divide in potential. Because of this, Katara had many people who liked her, but very few who would have called themselves her friend. Suki had many friends of her own status whom she had grown up with and so she had a knowledge that Katara would forever lack regarding comforting one who was in the throws of melancholy that Katara was beginning to descend to.

"Do not despair," Suki said, pressing Katara's clasped hands tight between her own. "You will, of course, have many people who care enough about you to protect you if this gentleman reveals himself to be even more terrible than you think. And quite besides that, you will not lose your true friends to him. It seems that while Mr. Zuko will, for some amount of time, confuse the ties that bind you all, he will never be able to sever them. Katara, tell me truly, do you think that Mr. Aang will give up your friendship simply because Mr. Zuko has more standing and wealth?"

Katara hung her head, knowing Suki's words to be true. "No," she said. "Of course he will not."

"And your own brother? Would Mr. Sokka abandon his own blood for the dubious affections of a neighbor."

"Of course not," Katara said, more sharply this time for she knew that while Sokka would never stoop to that, she would also never let him and would certainly force his brotherly feelings back upon herself if the need arose.

"So the only one you must worry about is young Miss Bei Fong," Suki said, a mischievous spark kindling in her eye, "for she is such a kind, demure young lady, so given to getting along with everyone. I myself have always known her to be so, so kind and understanding. So of course, it must be her gentle disposition you are worried about losing."

This made Katara cry out in laughter at the very idea of Miss Toph being the object of such compliments as Suki heaped on her. "Of course, we must all worry very much about Miss Bei Fong's delicate constitution!" she said. "A young lady who is so easy to like and befriend would easily be swayed by the .... charm! The charm of a man like Mr. Zuko."

The two ladies fell against each other in a fit of giggling, neither one willing to give up their mirth easily. It was simply the childish idea of one liking Miss Toph's company, or at least for even the idea of her not being as barbed and sharp as a fish hook. In their own ways, both Katara and Suki liked Miss Bei Fong, even if they found her somewhat too much, but that did not mean they were unable to acknowledge the humor of assigning her charm when she possessed so little.

Despite the somewhat cruel nature of the laughter, Katara felt far better afterwards and stood up straight without leaning on Suki's shoulder. "Oh, you  _ must _ come with us," she begged. "Please, Suki, what will I do without you?"

But again Suki refused. "I am not dressed for it," she insisted. "And besides all that, I am comfortable with you and Mr. Sokka, even Miss Bei Fong in short bursts, but not with all of you together. You are a good friend, Katara, and very kind to ignore the differences in our station, but not everyone will do as you do. If I could only name the number of times I have been scorned and shunned for things beyond my control. You are a dear companion, but even if you are not aware constantly of the differences between us, I must be, for I am the one who will be hurt by those differences."

Katara's heart fell and she looked quite mournfully at Suki's proud and stubborn face. "I swear to you on my life, Suki, I will never treat you in —”

"I do not doubt your affections, Katara," Suki interrupted, shaking her head. "But you must let me make this choice for myself. Perhaps Miss Bei Fong and this Mr. Zuko will somehow manage to more completely endear themselves to me and I will be able to look past the risks of their aquanitence, but for now, I will not insert myself into the company of those who think me unworthy."

Katara wished she was able to change Suki's mind, though it was a selfish wish, but she was forced to admit that she fully understood Suki's reticence. Even she, whose sphere was far closer to that of Miss Bei Fong, often felt like she was the lesser of the two, despite being older and having more experience and, she admitted in the privacy of her thoughts, a more well-formed personality. To be someone of Suki's status, comfortable and happy enough in her house of many sisters in the village, but owning nothing, to be thrust into a gathering of landed gentry who pressed upon each other constantly to find weaknesses to exploit in one another's fortunes — well, it sounded like quite too much to bear.

It was with a heavy heart that Katara nodded, acquiescing for now to Suki's insistence, and they walked in silence back to the front of the house.

"Oh, there you are," Sokka said, bowing and presenting the basket back to Suki as if she was a queen and he had retrieved it for her on a tireless quest. "Katara, have you convinced Miss Suki to come along with us?"

"I have not," Katara said, squeezing Suki's arm. "Perhaps next time."

Sokka's face fell, but he tried not to be swamped by the melancholy. "Next time," he agreed. "We shall be sure to give Miss Suki enough time to prepare herself."

"I should like that," Suki said with a smile that threw Sokka into a much more joyful mood. "But no, not now. I am very busy today, unlike you lot who are able to lie about like nothing." She laughed again and kissed Katara's cheek. "Do try to have a good time, dearest Katara," she said. "Your company may include elements you dislike but that does not mean you must fall to the same level."

"I'll certainly try," Katara said with great trepidation.

Suki, knowing Katara likely would not try at all, laughed and turned to curtsy to Sokka. "Mr. Sokka," she said in a falsely serious voice that had him hanging on her every word. "I must thank you for doing such a good job in protecting my basket and its contents. You are a magnanimous champion for my worldly goods and I shall forever remember your kindness."

"Ah," Sokka said, quite at a loss for words in the face of Suki's teasing. "Yes, well. Thank you for ... it was good to see you." He bowed again to cover his awkwardness and with more laughter, Suki started down the drive just as a pair of carriages trundled up it. The one in the lead, a brightly decorated confection of carved wood and gilt paint, paused briefly beside Suki and a few words were spoken through the window before the carriage moved on.

"Goodness," said Sokka, "what good timing."

Katara disagreed — good timing would have been if the earth had opened up and swallowed both carriages into its depths — but she said nothing so as not to upset Sokka any more than she already would. She squared her shoulders and put her chin up to better protect herself from Mr. Zuko's unpleasant person, and put on her best smile as the carriages drew to a stop in front of Southwinter.


	5. In Which a Brother Makes Some Pointed Remarks

You may at this point believe that Mr. Zuko was completely unaware of his actions, his rudeness, or his own faults in the matter at hand, but that was not true at all. In matter of fact, Mr. Zuko had, for the days leading up to the picnic, run over his interactions with Miss Katara like a man searching for gold in a river. He had alternately raged, despaired, bargained loudly with his uncle for  _ and _ against his own behavior, spent full days lying upon his bed intending to never move again, and explaining to anyone who would listen that Miss Katara either deserved or had done nothing to deserve his wrath.

For his part, Mr. Iroh bore all of this with the kind of stoicism that would have put monks to shame. He was perhaps the person most in tune with his nephew's moods, more so indeed than Zuko himself. Besides that, unlike the younger gentleman, Mr. Iroh had a good idea what the missing piece of Zuko's emotional puzzle was, though he was loath to explain it. It was easier, he thought, to allow young people to work these things out for themselves, as they so rarely believed their elders when they were simply told.

However, despite his deep well of patience, he was quite excited to see Zuko embark on an outing with the young people again, as it might provide him the evidence needed to unknot the problem he found himself in.

"I will not," Zuko had asserted as he waited for his own carriage to be readied, "hold my tongue again if the lady chooses to engage in insults."

"No one expects you to accept your fate lying down," Mr. Iroh said with a nod, though what he truly meant and what Zuko heard were very different things. "The lady is headstrong and passionate, that is certainly true, and I am sure all her friends feel the same way about her. But I do caution you, Zuko, to not create a hurricane out of a single cloud."

Well used to his uncle's philosophies, Zuko nodded though he had no idea what exactly was meant by the statement. "I will, of course, try to comport myself better," he said, sliding straight from anger to melancholy. "The lady  _ is _ passionate, you are right, but she is still a lady and there are certain forms of etiquette that must be addressed." His shoulders slumped further, as though he was at risk of simply falling to the floor. "Oh, Uncle, whatever shall I do?"

Mr. Iroh stepped forward and pulled Zuko up into a standing position again, squaring Zuko’s shoulders with military efficiency. "You will act in a way befitting your station," Mr. Iroh said firmly. "You will remember what I have taught you. You will treat your acquaintances with respect and good humor even if you perhaps do not feel that yourself. You will not allow whatever insults the lady may offer you to affect you in any way and you will be strong and dignified in the face of adversity."

"That seems like quite a long list of things I must pay attention to," Zuko said, wilting again almost as soon as Mr. Iroh had put him right. "How do you do this, Uncle? How do you act in such a kind and generous way to all around you when it is so difficult for me to maintain myself for only a few hours of small talk in mixed company?"

"I am old," Mr. Iroh said, eyes twinkling. "You are young and will need much more practice before you are as good as I am at moving pieces around the board of life. This is not a skill one is born with, nephew. It is one you must work towards all your life. When you are as old as me, perhaps you will be as happy as I am, if you are very careful and work hard." He patted Zuko's shoulder. "Now go on, and try to enjoy yourself. You are so often engaged in your melancholy these days that some young people and a stroll through the countryside will do you good. The fresh air may chase away your ill humors."

Zuko, who privately thought the ill humor too deeply ingrained in his person to be chased off by a bit of stray wind, tried to smile at his uncle as though he too believed that some day he would be able to achieve happiness. He was unsure that it had worked, but the carriage was ready and he moved towards the door on his own with only the slightest pang that his uncle's company was not fit for a gathering of the younger gentry.

The carriage ride gave him much time to think, as Southwinter was across the town. He found himself at one point traveling behind the Bei Fong's green-and-yellow coach, larger than his own chaise, as they headed up towards Southwinter's drive. He briefly wondered if he should have had the groomsman prepare a larger vehicle, but if Miss Bei Fong could comfortably seat four, that would leave him alone and that was likely the best scenario. 

They paused briefly in the drive and Zuko peered through the curtains to see a girl with striking auburn hair and an oval face stopped at the side of the road to speak with the occupant in front of him. After a moment the coach rolled on and he drew even with the lady, who was about his own age and looked him over quite boldly as he passed. He looked back and she cocked her head as if drawing a map of his face in her mind before his chaise rolled past her and she was lost from view.

He would have thought longer on the strange lady, but a sudden horror struck him of seeing Miss Katara again. He had a brief but startling thought that perhaps through some turn of fate she would be forced to ride with him, and then he might be able to privately apologize for the harm he had caused, or perhaps become quite a bit more upset with her, depending on how his mood and the conversation went. He looked quickly out the other window, heart in his throat, but saw the vicar handing Miss Katara into Miss Bei Fong's coach with a laughingly pompous bow. Zuko settled back into his seat, filled partly with relief, but more than he wished to admit, also regret at not once again finding himself faced with Miss Katara's great force of personality.

Therefore, he was greatly surprised when the door of the chaise opened and Mr. Sokka leapt in with the grace of a young deer. "Ah!" he cried, settling himself down beside Zuko as though it had been his chaise all along and Zuko had simply been borrowing it. "It would be quite unfair of me to force you to ride alone, when this is meant to be a gathering of friends."

He looked so sincere that though Zuko wished to push him out of the chaise, he stilled his hand and forced a brief nod. A smile was too far out of the question, but at least he hadn't made a complete fool of himself in this process.

"It is, though, such a very nice day," Mr. Sokka said, tying back the curtains on the chaise's window with deft hands. "A few nice days left at least. Taking advantage of this now before it's gone, I say, that's the real key. Don't you agree?"

The weather seemed to be a safe topic, so Zuko nodded, and said, "Yes, the weather here is lovely. Is it like this all year?"

"Not at all," Sokka laughed. "There is rain for most of the year, I'm sure you will find. But I have been told that the farmers quite like that, so if we wish for vegetables for our tables, we will all be sure to thank the foul weather as well as the fair." He looked towards Zuko. "You must have little experience with the country, having lived mostly in town?"

"I have experience with a different sort of country," Zuko said shortly, not wishing to speak of his family lest he give himself away. "This one is new to me and I am excited to find its quirks."

"Quirks," said Mr. Sokka with wry humor. "That is certainly one way to express the sentiment. It has those aplenty. You've even met some of them." He waved his hand forward as the coches began to move, indicating the members of the party traveling in front of them. "I am sorry I didn't warn you about Miss Toph," Sokka said, dropping his voice as though the lady would somehow hear them even at this great distance and over the rattle of the carriage wheels. "I thought, perhaps incorrectly, that experience would be the best teacher. And she is so difficult to explain, especially when one first meets her under her parents influence. I apologize if that upset you."

Zuko wondered why Mr. Sokka was telling him this, and then realized it was because of his somewhat sour mood the last time they had met, which Mr. Sokka had attributed to the wrong lady. "I was greatly pleased to meet Miss Bei Fong," said Zuko, wondering how he would be able to tell Mr. Sokka that she had not been the problem. "She is, I will grant you, quite the odd girl and I can certainly see how the explanation of such a person to a newcomer would be difficult. I am sure that, with practice, I will be able to understand what it is that makes her the way she is."

"If you ever find that out," Mr. Sokka said, with the laugh he so often carried, "do be sure to let me know because I have never been able to understand anything about that particular lady. Though I am so often told that it is perhaps ladies in general that I misunderstand."

"You do not seem to have any trouble being personable with them," Mr. Zuko pointed out, thinking instead of his own troubles in that realm and wondering if Mr. Sokka was bad, what word was horrible enough to describe his own failings?

"That may be a bias on the part of my sister then," Sokka admitted with a shrug. "She, like Miss Toph, is a woman of strong personality."

"I hadn't noticed," Zuko said.

To his great surprise, Mr. Sokka burst out in a full, bubbling laugh. It was the kind of thing that would not have been tolerated in the social circles Zuko had moved in before this and he was quite at a loss on how to react. He remembered briefly being told by his uncle — who'd had it from the servants they hired — that while the siblings who resided at Southwinter were liked and well respected, they were often seen as having become slightly strange in the absence of education and society correct for their birth. Now that Zuko was seeing the evidence of that in front of him, he wondered if all of these young people had gone quite mad. Perhaps there was something in the water and he would have to watch himself for signs of growing insanity.

"She is quite something, is she not?" Sokka continued when he had finished his mirth. "My exhausting sister. Has she made any speeches to you yet about your character? She will, I promise you. At her best, our Katara is clever and kind and does all the things that will make her one of the most outstanding ladies, but she is so rarely at her best. I do apologize if you receive the sharp edge of her tongue. Sometimes I think she intends to take the pulpit away from Aang to occupy it herself and shame us all into better behavior."

Zuko was unable to speak, so surprised was he to find Sokka making light of the behavior he had thought directed solely at him. And yet, Mr. Sokka prattled on about whatever else it was his sister did that was so bothersome, which seemed to be a good deal of what Zuko had taken as a personal attack. He tried to maintain the conversation by adding a word in here or there, but it was difficult as he sank down into a consideration of his own interactions with the lady in this new light.

For her part, Katara was grateful to her brother for taking the spot in Mr. Zuko's carriage and allowing her the luxury of avoiding that particular gentleman for a moment longer. She was quite happy to listen to Mr. Aang and Miss Toph's bright laughter rather than speak herself. They were both quite passionate people and despite Miss Toph's failings, Katara loved them both dearly, but she did not have the stock of boundless energy they both seemed to possess. When together, it always seemed as though Aang's meditative piousness and Toph's sharp edges melted away and they became like the children they had been before the world put the weight of so much society on their unready shoulders.

At last, the carriages reached the spot where the picnic was to be held and drew to a stop. Katara reached for the door herself, unwilling to wait for someone to allow her out, but before she could touch it, Sokka pulled it open. "Here we are!" he announced with a gradious sweep of his hand. "Welcome to  _ nature _ ."

Katara looked around as she stepped out onto the road. It was a place they had frequented often as children, though not so much in recent years. The hills around the village were green with grasses and wildflowers, and farms dotted the valleys below them. Katara took a deep breath and enjoyed the feeling of being somewhere far away, of avoiding the strains of her adult life even for a moment, allowing herself to imagine what it would be like to run through this field and not bother ever coming home.

But on Sokka's other side was Mr. Zuko, dressed as he usually was in too much black, looking stiff and uncomfortable. Katara wondered briefly if he had come simply to ruin the view, but that was uncharitable even for her to think and she crushed the thought. If she would be forced to interact with the man even though they had both agreed to avoid each other, she would at least be more civil than he was.

He turned towards her as though he felt her gaze upon him, and to her surprise, executed a courteous if slightly stiff bow. "Miss Katara," he said.

She curtsied in return. "Mr. Zuko."

"Oh, none of that," said Sokka, stepping between them. "The time for formality is over. The rolling hills and shaded glens await!"

Without waiting for anyone, he took up one of the baskets right from the hands of a footman and trotted off down the hill.

Helpless against her brother's charming idiocy, Katara followed and hoped Mr. Zuko would mind himself for the entire doomed enterprise.


	6. In Which a Picnic is Had and Old Affections are Renewed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this chapter so that's on me. Thank you for the support on this one, it's harder for me to write than other things and I appreciate everyone who's told me I don't suck at it.
> 
> Anyway, time for the Charming Asshole Austen Trope to make its appearance.

The day was a beautiful one and this less-tamed part of nature that Katara and her party found themselves in evoked a certain feeling of tranquility that was difficult to find elsewhere. The quiet and lack of human structures — though not human interaction, as seen in the game trails crisscrossing the field and winding through the woodland — made Katara feel as though she had stepped out of her normal life and into someone else's. For her, this was a great relief. The Katara who wandered through the woods was not the same Katara who had to stay up late adding columns of numbers by candle light in order to allow the siblings to keep their place of residence. 

Unfortunately, this Katara still had to interact with gentlemen she'd rather never see again.

There was much laughter in the woods as Miss Bei Fong and Aang daddled by the edge of a stream, though Katara did not know what exactly they were laughing at. She walked ahead of the group, with for a lady should have been unforgivable but Katara had long ago developed a reputation for being too hardened for the delicate nature of her sex. It was quite within keeping for her to walk alone and leave Miss Toph with the gentlemen behind her. She absolutely did not feel the need to worry about Miss Toph — her brother was there, they were still in earshot, and quite besides that, Miss Toph was fully capable of caring for herself.

She did briefly wish that Miss Suki had been persuaded to accompany them, but wishing did her no good so she stopped quickly.

It was Aang who caught up to her and offered her an arm which she took. "Am I intruding?" he asked her with a quirk of one eyebrow. "You seem lost in thought and I worried you would also become lost in the forest if we were not careful."

"The path is exceedingly well marked," Katara pointed out. "I believe I would have been hard pressed to get myself lost in a place as easy to find as this one."

"And yet," Aang said, "I would find myself quite turned around if it were me who looked so pensive. Even the most well marked path can do nothing to stop a dreamer."

She laughed at him then and he smiled in response. "Oh, Aang," Katara said and patted his arm. "I think of all of us, I may be the least likely to be considered a dreamer."

"How little credit you give yourself!" Aang cried, pressing a hand to his chest. "Without you, my dearest Katara, we would have not a single dream between us all."

This was so humorous coming from a young man like Aang, who was nothing but dreams and hopes, that Katara laughed again, quite helpless to stop herself or prevent the mirth from spilling out. She had always found herself to be too much based in the firmness of the world and regretted that she, unlike Aang, took things far too seriously. For a man of faith, who should have presented himself as solemn and learned, Aang brought a joy to his profession that she had seen nowhere else. His greatest ability was to allow other people to feel the hope and the dreams he had for them. In short, Aang was good in a way few other people were.

"I am glad," Aang said when her amusement lessened, "that I could at least provide you with some happiness. But Katara, what is it that upsets you so, and sends your thoughts so far afield from the place in which we find ourselves?"

Katara sighed. She did not, of course, wish to tell Aang what was truly bothering her, especially when that thing dogged her footsteps and she could hear the murmur of its deep voice behind her in the wood. She did not doubt her own feelings on the matter, but she also did not wish for Aang to know she had those feelings. He had always thought very well of her and she felt like depriving him of that feeling would hurt them both.

"I simply do not know," she said.

"A sense of the melancholic?" asked Aang.

"Perhaps that is it," Katara agreed and moved on to happier topics.

They soon reached the meadow Sokka had in mind for the gathering. It was a simple, pretty spot ringed with trees where blankets could be spread on the shorter grass and give the young people a place to sit and enjoy themselves. It was farther afield than would have been expected for five idle creatures like themselves, but that had always been a trait Katara and her brother shared — the desire to go somewhat further into the wilderness than was expected. Of course, it was the kind of trait that had gotten them into all kinds of trouble in the past but she thought this time there could be no harm done.

"Finally," Toph said as Aang seated her on a blanket. He had done so gently but Toph — herself very ungentle — released his hand part way down so she could thump onto the blanket with all the grace of a sack of flour. "I had thought you gentleman would have me traipsing through the woods all day. Perhaps you lot are happy as sprites, but some of us have more delicate constitutions."

"I do not believe your constitution is at all delicate," Katara said, seating herself across from Toph where she hoped few people would join her.

"What a thing to say to a poor, blind girl lost in this world?" Toph said with her usual flair for the dramatic.

Katara elected to ignore that statement and shook her head, continuing to turn and look behind her at the gently rustling trees and the way in which the daisies and clover bowed their heads in the same direction with every breath of wind. She found this, at the very least, to be comforting and was willing to accept the quiet of the world around them, though with Toph and Sokka both in attendance, that quiet would in all likelihood be short lived.

"Let us see what your kitchen has provided us with, Miss Bei Fong," said Sokka, opening a basket with a flourish and producing a number of sandwiches.

"You could have taken any type of food from within that basket and have been perfectly happy," Aang accused, though he too reached for a sandwich as soon as they were all settled.

The easy conversation lulled Katara even further. She found herself staring far away as though she, like the flowers, was only attending this party by proxy. Removing herself from the party in spirit if not in body was quite easy for her and it did make the presence of other members of the company more bearable.

Not, of course, that a certain gentleman was saying overmuch. Perhaps Mr. Zuko's own tendency towards silence helped his cause more than anything Katara could do. She was not, of course, ready to forgive him. While Mr. Zuko had been at war with himself since their argument, Katara was made of a much more stubborn stuff and questioning her own actions was not a natural part of her making. It would in fact be fair to say that Mr. Zuko had a far more obvious handle on what had gone wrong between the two of them than Katara had, and I am sorry to say that this lack of knowledge of her own faults would continue for a good while longer. Thus is always the failings of the stubborn; while they have the benefit of being unshakable in their convictions, that is often a trait better suited to politicians and generals rather than the delicate nature of interpersonal conflict.

But as it stood, Katara watched Mr. Zuko and turned more and more sour towards him and, in his turn, Mr. Zuko watched Katara and turned more and more despairing at her sourness.

It would have gone on like this for quite some time had not the sound of a single horse surprised them all.

Katara had only time to look up in the direction of hoofbeats before the horse — a tall and magnificent gray stallion — burst from the cover of the woodland and into the meadow from a direction they had not traveled. Mr. Zuko was the fastest of them and was on his feet before the horse reached them. The horse slowed and stopped a few feet away, which Mr. Zuko still felt was too close given the wildness of the entrance, and the rider swung down from the beast's back with graceful arrogance.

"Hullo!" the new arrival cried, striding towards the picnic blanket. "I see I have been left out once again."

Now Sokka too was on his feet and Katara was struggling to her own, though more slowly in the confines of her skirts. Mr. Zuko took a brief look at them and saw both siblings looked stormy and upset, and so he took his cue from them, maneuvering to put himself between the newcomer and the party.

"Mr. Jet," said Katara in what could have been a greeting if her tone had not been so decidedly cold. "You have returned. How ... fortunate it is for us to see you again."

Mr. Jet executed a bow that was perfectly civil except for the rakish tilt of his head, and circumnavigated Mr. Zuko to take up Katara's hand. She allowed him to do so, but her face was closed and dark. "Miss Katara," he said. "Not a day has gone by when I have not thought of you. I would like to first apologize most profoundly for leaving in the way I did. It was unforgiveable of me, but I wish that you would find it in your beautiful, soft heart to accept my apology regardless. I had not anticipated being called away so suddenly.”

To his great surprise, Zuko watched some of the ice crack on Katara's expression.

"And my dear Mr. Sokka," Mr. Jet said, turning away from Katara. "I must also beg your forgiveness and assure you that I have not forgotten you or your sister in the time I have traveled for business. It was of great importance to me, and had to be done, but I regret the way in which my sudden departure may have hurt relations."

"Relations," said Miss Bei Fong in the softest voice she knew how. It was still loud enough to be heard by all, but they politely ignored her.

Mr. Jet turned back towards Katara, a charming smile pasted across his features, and instead came face to face with Mr. Zuko.

He checked himself noticeably and took a near step back at the sight of Mr. Zuko's face. It was, in full honesty, the reaction Mr. Zuko had been hoping for. He was often disgusted and appalled by his own reflection in the mirror, but it could, on occasion, be used to his advantage, and this was one of those times. He turned the full effect of his face on Mr. Jet, looking down his nose at the other man, which was difficult to do as they were the same height.

Mr. Jet cleared his throat and said, in a meeker tone, "Won't someone introduce us?"

"Mr. Jet," Aang said, coming to the rescue. "I present to you Mr. Zuko, lately of Caldera Court. Mr. Zuko, this is Mr. Jet, an acquaintance of ours and sometime resident of the village, when he is not otherwise engaged in daring adventure."

It was rather difficult to tell if Aang approved or disapproved of Mr. Jet. He was, as usual, filled with the kind of careful politeness a member of the clergy ought to have, but his true feelings were obscured. Mr. Sokka, behind Mr. Aang, seemed unwilling to give Mr. Jet any benefit of the doubt, politeness be damned. As for Miss Katara, her iciness melted by the second as Mr. Jet and Mr. Zuko squared off and she prepared to take the side of whichever one of them was not Mr. Zuko.

Mr. Jet offered a hand. "Charmed."

"Likewise," said Mr. Zuko as the two men shook hands, though he didn't seem at all charmed. There were a number of things about Mr. Jet that he found insufferable. To begin with, he had no love for the way Mr. Jet had simply waltzed into what he had at least hoped was a party where only one member hated him. Mr. Zuko was not much given to socialization and the sudden introduction of a newcomer into the party of people, especially people he already did not know well, made him wary. And then there was the gentleman himself, who could not accurately be qualified as a fop, but who had some tendencies that Mr. Zuko viewed as distinctly foppish. The cut of his jacket and the line of his trousers were neat and stylish, but he wore them with the easy confidence of a man more interested in seeming dashing over polished. 

In short, Mr. Jet was distinctly charming and yet Mr. Zuko did not find himself at all charmed.

Lastly, he disliked the eyes Mr. Jet was making at Miss Katara, for reasons he did not fully know, and was even more upset at the knowledge that Ktara's normally stubborn nature was being worn down by them, for she was beginning to accept the looks with polite interest and, he thought, some feeling of reciprocation.

Mr. Sokka, however, was clearly not in the same boat as his sister. While Mr. Aang and Miss Katara leaned towards Mr. Jet, Mr. Sokka and Miss Bei Fong leaned away. Mr. Sokka, who shared his sister's lack of hidden expression, looked very nearly as stormy as Mr. Zuko felt. As for Miss Bei Fong, her lack of grace was on full display. She looked at Mr. Jet in the way one might look at a particularly disgusting insect.

"Do you know," said Mr. Jet, "that I had absolutely no idea you might be out here today? What a lovely coincidence this is, to meet friends in an out of the way place like this, to be able to feel as though perhaps the stars have aligned to place our meeting in such an important and coincidental manner. And since I am so lately come from town, I can fill you in on all the news, if you would be so good as to allow me to join you."

"Please," Miss Katara said and Mr. Jet sat down beside them and helped himself to a sandwich.

The already awkward picnic became even worse. As Mr. Zuko had feared, Mr. Jet  _ was _ quite charming and Miss Katara had an undeniable soft spot for him. She had been quite upset with him when he arrived, but that had more to do with Mr. Jet's lack of a goodbye the last time he had been in the village, and with the letters that he had not sent to her, despite promises that if he  _ were _ to leave, they  _ would _ have been sent. It was perhaps a frivolous, flighty anger, but Miss Katara was still, despite her responsibility and sense, quite a young lady and as everyone knows, it is difficult for the young to keep their temper, especially when it comes to men who may or may not have been looking for her hand.

Sokka of course regarded the whole thing as a silly feminine failing. It was not a label he often ascribed to his sister, but in this case, he felt like her feelings had quite run away from her. Sokka did not trust Mr. Jet in any way, either to keep any promises made to Katara, or to know how those promises might affect her. He had already resolved that if Mr. Jet tried to make his attentions more well known, Sokka would not be interested in hearing his cause. Given that their father was away and had not been seen in the village or at the old house in many years, it would likely fall upon Sokka to give his blessing to any union between his sister and a gentleman. If that gentleman was Mr. Jet, Sokka would toss out his suit without thought.

That did not, however, mean that his sister would not be silly about him in the meantime. She seemed to be of the opinion that Sokka would not be the one to make the decision about her future marriage at all. Which, in her opinion, meant she was allowed to speak to whoever she wished in whatever way she wished without worrying about her brother's opinions of those people.

It was still a deep point of contention between the siblings, but not one that they had been forced to put to the test.

"How lovely all of this is," said Mr. Jet, already on his second sandwich. "It is the provincial charm of this county that allows me to return to it so often. The forests and the meadows." He smiled at Katara. "The beautiful flowers."

Both Sokka and Zuko considered violence.

Finishing the food, Mr. Jet stood and offered an arm to Katara. "Miss Katara," he said with laughing formality. "Would you do me the great honor of taking a turn about the meadow with me?"

"Certainly," Katara said, taking his hand and allowing him to help her to her feet.

When they were out of earshot, Miss Bei Fong said, "I'll have you know, Sokka, I don't like that man at all."

"Miss Toph!" scolded Mr. Aang, aghast.

"No, no, you may be above such petty things as a holy man, Aang," Miss Toph said, holding up one delicate and pale hand, "but those of us still tied to our physical lives here on earth are allowed to have opinions about other mortal vessels for the soul."

" _ Good _ opinions, Miss Toph!" Aang cried, the conversation quite unsettling him. "It is our job to form good opinions of people and to try to see the best in them when possible."

"I have tried," Miss Toph said in a tone of voice that indicated the opposite, "and I have found him wanting. It is  _ not _ in fact possible to see the best in him, as I do not believe he as a best."

"Stop it, Miss Toph," Sokka said in the same voice he used when Katara was at her most annoying. "You're upsetting Aang and you know how delicate he can be when it comes to seeing the bad in people. We need his bright eyed optimism in the good of humanity or we shall all fall into the deep sinkhole of perpetual bad temper." He reached for a basket of strawberries, selecting two and pressing one into Toph's hand. "And if we are all unpleasant all the time, there will be no time to eat strawberries."

Mr. Zuko listened to the conversation but he did not look at them, instead electing to follow the progress of Katara and Mr. Jet around the edge of the meadow. He was watching for some indication of impropriety from the gentleman which would allow him to leap to Miss Katara's rescue. To his great displeasure, it appeared like Mr. Jet had no ill intent towards the lady and the two progressed with the usual stateliness of pleasurable company. This annoyed Mr. Zuko even further.

"Have you met the gentleman before?" asked Mr. Sokka.

There was a brief moment of confusion where Mr. Zuko did not understand he was being spoken to, and then he turned. "Ah," he said, taking in Mr. Sokka's meaning. "No, I have never had the pleasure before now."

"You seem to have quite the interest in him," Miss Bei Fong said, though how she knew that without sight, Mr. Zuko did not know. It seemed impolite to ask.

"I simply did not realize that Miss Katara was thus engaged," Mr. Zuko said.

"She's not," Sokka said quite sharply. "Despite the gentleman's attention, he has made no moves to court or claim her, and whatever affections may exist between the two of them remain nothing more than that."

"I see," said Mr. Zuko, more confused than ever.

"Aang, we should join them," Miss Bei Fong said with conviction. "I could do with a walk. Help me up."

Mr. Aang graciously helped the lady to her feet and the two of them moved towards the other pair at a much faster clip, overtaking them easily.

Mr. Sokka, who might have been sensible, good natured, and occasionally oblivious but was not stupid, said, "I see that you have similar feelings on Mr. Jet that I do."

"I endeavor to have no feelings on the man at all," Mr. Zuko said.

"And yet, I fear that your endeavor may not succeed." Sokka selected yet another item from the picnic basket and began to eat it. "I believe whatever conclusions you have come to about Mr. Jet's deficiencies are correct. He is not a match I would be willing to choose for the sister I hold so dear, and yet if I tell her that, she will be all the more intent on choosing him simply to spite me. And you have seen enough of Katara at this point to understand that when she puts her mind to something, it is difficult to change it."

"I will not argue with that assessment," Zuko allowed.

"So you will understand why fighting with her on this point is useless," Sokka said in a long suffering way. "Do you have any siblings, Mr. Zuko?"

"A sister," Mr. Zuko said, then added darkly, "We are not close."

"Good," Sokka said. "Being close to one's sister is such a poor idea. All I ever hear from her are complaints and demands. It is quite tiresome."

"Your sister is ..." Zuko said but then could not think of the right words.

"Awful?" Sokka suggested with glee. "Hardheaded? Uppity? Shrill?"

"A force of personality," Zuko allowed.

"She is that." Sokka threw himself back onto the picnic blanket with the drama of an actor. "I wish she would be slightly less forceful. I am sure that someday she will hit someone too hard with that 'personality' of hers and it will quite injure them."

"Let us hope then that that person is Mr. Jet," Zuko said.

Sokka laughed at that and in that moment, the friendship between the two gentlemen was solidified. It would not become clear for some while longer that it had happened, but as with many relationships, being allied against an outside force that neither liked bound them together and made them fast friends in the days to come.


	7. In Which Invitations are Made and Guests are Poorly Received

After her unexpected appearance at their estate the day before, Katara had made sure that she invited Miss Suki formally to the house in order to continue the conversation they had started. Miss Suki had accepted and now the two ladies sat side by side on the sofa in the sitting room, drinking tea and exchanging the latest gossip.

"I had not," Suki said, in response to Katara's story of the picnic, "expected our wayward Mr. Jet to return at all, much less in such a flamboyant manner as that. You said he had no idea you would be picnicking there?"

"That is what he said," Katara replied in a voice that conceded some flexibility on whether she believed him.

Suki pursed her lips together, her eyes becoming somewhat more suspicious. "I will admit," she said with her usual good-natured forthrightness, "I was not Mr. Jet's biggest supporter, especially given his obvious intentions towards you, my dearest Katara. But it does seem to strike me that I could have at least been somewhat kinder to him, as coming back has already exceeded what I thought him capable of."

"If you have a better idea of his  _ obvious _ intentions, I do wish you'd tell me," Katara complained.

Suki laughed. "Are you not simply content to have a suitor who is completely unclear on his actions and feelings towards you? Why is is that you could possibly want a man to make his intentions known?"

"Do not tease, Suki, I am sick over it," Katara cried, though she was not at all sick. She was perhaps not pleased, for despite all her sense, she very much enjoyed the attention Mr. Jet gave her and would have not minded if it was a somewhat more concrete interest. But she did not, in fact, feel sick about it.

"My poor girl," Suki said, leaning over and patting Katara's hand where it rested on the edge of her saucer. "These men do make life so difficult for you. It is truly unnecessary."

"I believe I am still being teased, despite your tone," Katara said, putting her nose in the air. "It is not kind of you, Miss Suki, to treat me in such a way simply because I have been put into a position that men of a certain type feel the need to bother me. Do you have no problem at all with their sex?"

"None that I can think of," Suki said thoughtfully, which dashed some of Katara's hopes of bringing Suki even closer to her heart than she already was. "This is a problem for people of your class, Katara, not for mine. I assume that some day a very nice apprentice will come and ask for my hand, and I will have the option of accepting or refusing him based upon my feelings rather than how it will look to the rest of the world."

"Is that what you think of me?" Katara asked quietly. "Is your opinion so low?"

"Not of you," Suki said. "Of the world in general. You must look at it this way. Mr. Jet's lack of intention may have to do with your status, or your family's trouble, or his own low place in the world. Or it may have to do with his own failings as a person, his own desire to avoid a marital entanglement. You have no way of knowing because there are simply so many factors that it could be. I, on the other hand, while not being poor, but certainly not well off, know that if a man asks me to marry him, it will be at least mostly because he enjoys my company."

Katara turned that over in her head. "So you believe that there are a very great number of reasons that Mr. Jet could be acting in this manner?"

"Yes, of course."

Katara considered this. It would, of course, be quite nice if that were the case. She hoped there were a large number of reasons for him to consider his actions and perhaps second guess them, for that would tell her that she was not the problem, and also give Mr. Jet himself the room to be apologized for. Katara did not want Mr. Jet's flightiness to be because of his character, for that would mean that there was no hope for him. It would also imply that she was in some way being used by Mr. Jet's rakish nature, and that did not sit well with her at all.

So she hoped Suki was right and that perhaps there might be some hope for the gentleman after all.

"So will Mr. Jet be joining us at the social?" asked Suki.

In all the excitement, Katara had quite forgotten about the social. Since the village was small and those of means few and far between, they did not have the dances that would have been so favored, but instead the gentry — or at least, the Southwinter siblings, who were somewhere in between — were invited to the more raucous dances and festivals held by the townsfolk. Suki, who told Katara that the other kind of dances were stuffy, asked, begged, and bullied Katara into at least some participation as often as possible.

"Oh, Suki, I do not think —” Katara started, as she usually did.

"Pish," Suki said. "You always  _ do not think _ . Sometimes, my dear girl, you must accept that things can be done. If Mr. Jet will be attending the social, that will be the perfect time for us to discuss with him what his attentions may mean."

"I have not yet decided that I have any desire to discuss his intentions," Katara said.

Suki sighed. "If that is what you want. But tell me, before the arrival of Mr. Jet and his confusing feelings, what of the original worry of your picnic. In all the excitement, you have not even spoken of your Mr. Zuko."

"I certainly hope he is not  _ my _ Mr. Zuko," Katara said, though Suki was quite right. In all the excitement of Mr. Jet's return, she had not at all thought of her previous worries in regards to the outing. Things had changed so much in such a short time that it seemed a silly worry now. But she thought back on it and attempted to find some conversation that would entertain or inform Suki, who Katara recognized had borne the brunt of her concerns.

"I do not," she said finally, "believe he thought very well of Mr. Jet."

Suki tilted her head and selected another biscuit from the tray on the table. "And what makes you think that?" she asked. "Especially as I have been led to believe that Mr. Zuko does not think well of anyone at all."

"Perhaps it was for the same reason Sokka dislikes Mr. Jet," said Katara. "Perhaps he was following a brother's lead in dislike for a sister's ... suitor?" She tried the word and found it wanting. "Regardless, he certainly seemed interested in putting on his worst face when it came to the interloper. I do not fully understand what it was about Mr. Jet that he found so horrible, nor do I pretend to."

"How interesting," said Suki thoughtfully. "From your characterization, I had expected the two to get along."

"What horrible things have I said about Mr. Jet that would give you that impression!" Katara cried.

"Nothing," Suki said and did not say any more on the subject at all.

She did not have to, since the door to the sitting room opened and Sokka blew in like a stray autumn leaf. "Katara!" he said in great excitement. "And Miss Suki, I did not know you would be here today. It is lovely to see you as always." He bowed to Miss Suki as the ladies rose. "My sister had not informed me that you would be visiting, or I certainly would have come to say hello sooner." He glanced at Katara. "That is, if I was not interrupting. Of course."

But Katara was not paying any attention to her brother and instead looked past him and cried, "Oh!" for Mr. Zuko had just entered the room.

All of them paused and looked from one to the other as Katara attempted to pull herself together into something like a gracious host. When she finally had, she smiled at Mr. Zuko as best she could and said, "I was not aware that my brother had a guest. Sokka, why would you startle me like this?"

Sokka, who was clever enough to know when he was being falsely accused, shook his head in Katara's direction. They would have to have a conversation later about this but now, Sokka knew, was not the time. Their guest stood uncomfortably by the door of the sitting room, unsure of whether or not he wished to come in, and only when Sokka gave a broad wave of his hand towards both the couch and the gentleman did Zuko come in and sit down as though ready to run away at any moment.

"I had not known that I required your permission to have a guest in my own home," Sokka said, rather more sharply than he should have but not nearly as sharp as he wanted to. "You have invited Miss Suki over without asking, so I assumed I was  _ allowed _ to do the same."

Katara tried her very best not to glower at her brother. She had of course invited Miss Suki without consulting him, and wished to tell him that at least the person she had allowed into Southwinter was a pleasant surprise rather than a horrible one, but it would have been unforgivably rude to say that in front of Mr. Zuko. Katara was many things but she was not intentionally cruel and as Mr. Zuko had yet to do anything terrible today, she would simply have to live with him until he did and she could take advantage of his lack of manners.

So introductions were made between Miss Suki and Mr. Zuko, who both seemed pleasant but somewhat uncomfortable about the entire situation they found themselves in, and Katara indicated a need for more tea, which was brought.

"And how," Suki asked Mr. Zuko, spearheading conversation with the new acquaintance with her usual aplomb, "are you finding Caldera Court? I, of course, have never been inside, but it is a lovely house and it does my heart good to see it occupied once more."

"It is a fine house," Mr. Zuko agreed. "And it has long been neglected, which is, my uncle informs me, a shame. He is the one you would wish to ask about the progression of the house rather than I as he takes great pride in the strides he has made to make it habitable again."

"I have met your uncle," Suki said in the same conversational way, though she smiled at the thought. "I cannot be surprised that he would take such an interest."

"Indeed," Mr. Zuko managed before falling silent.

"Miss Suki," Sokka said before the silence became too heavy, "tell us the latest gossip from the village."

Both Katara and Suki knew that Sokka did not at all care about the gossip, especially if it involved anyone in the village other than those in the room, or perhaps Mr. Aang and Miss Bei Fong. But despite what one might think, neither one of them was a particular victim of the loose lipped ladies of the village, as both led quite boring lives. The question was, of course, designed to change the subject and to allow Miss Suki to speak freely, which she did at some length until even Katara felt less concerned by Mr. Zuko's shadowed presence on the sofa opposite her.

It also, Katara noted, allowed Sokka to listen with rapt attention to Miss Suki, which perhaps Katara was more interested in than either one of them. She was unsure if they recognized the affection developing; Suki likely because she was quite stubborn and a connection of this sort seemed quite out of the realm of possibility on its face, and Sokka because while he was clever, he was also very stupid when it came to the ways of women.

To her surprise, she saw by the considering look on Mr. Zuko's face that he too may have guessed what Katara thought to be her own personal observations. This was quite unexpected given how Mr. Zuko seemed to rival Sokka in terms of his own stupidities regarding not just women but humanity in general. Perhaps it was easier for him when he was not involved in the situation, Katara reflected. She simply hoped that he would not make a fool of himself by saying something for she would have to silence him quite severely.

After another three quarters of an hour, where Sokka and Miss Suki did much of the talking with only occasional comments from the other two, Sokka stood up.

"I had intended to take Mr. Zuko on a bracing ride across the moor," he said with an expansive gesture towards the fields behind the house. "I seem to have gotten distracted. If you are still ready?"

Mr. Zuko nodded and stood.

"Sokka," Katara said sweetly. "A moment?"

Mr. Zuko, with more chivalry than Katara would have expected, offered his arm to Miss Suki and the two of them stepped into the hall, leaving the siblings alone.

"What is it now?" said Sokka petulantly.

"Why is that man in my house?" Katara sapped, though she was careful to keep her voice low.

"Your house?" Sokka scoffed. "Since when is this simply 'your house' as though you are lord and master of all you see?"

"I keep the house, and the budget, and many other things beside," Katara whispered back. "It is as much my house as it is yours. But you are dodging my question."

"Because he is my guest," Sokka said and put his nose in the air.

Katara thought that was a very bad reason for someone to have been invited into her home without her permission, but was unable to say that. She thought privately that she would find some way to get back at Sokka at a later date, possibly by pushing him into something like a pond or a muddy puddle. But that was for later, when both Suki and Mr. Zuko were out of the house and she no longer had to worry about upsetting anyone with her ill manners, excepting of course Sokka, who deserved it.

"Besides," Sokka said, not noticing how quiet and upset Katara had become, "you invited Miss Suki without my permission, so it seems only fair that I also do not have to check with you when it comes to allowing guests into  _ our _ home."

Katara wanted to insist that at least he had some affection for Miss Suki, but she did not yet wish to reveal that she had none at all for Mr. Zuko. Of course, Sokka had likely guessed that was true, but there was a distinct difference between one guessing the truth and one being told it. So she, with great effort, kept her mouth shut.

"Well," said Sokka after a moment, when it became clear that Katara was not going to say anything else, "that's settled then. Mr. Zuko is here as my guest, because I enjoy his company. Let's all be polite to each other, shall we?"

"Of course," Katara said with the countenance of one who did not intend to be polite at all.

They went back into the hallway as though nothing at all had happened in their conversation, and Katara smiled at Suki, who smiled back.

"Wonderful news," Suki said brightly, with that mischievous twinkle back in her eye. "I have invited your Mr. Zuko to our social and he has graciously accepted."

Mr. Zuko, who's usually grave look had transformed into one of hidden panic, nodded briefly.

"And I would of course like to extend a formal invitation to both of you," Suki continued, gesturing to Sokka and Katara, "as you have been known to attend before. But one must try to be as formal as possible with these sort of things, don't you think?"

Katara now also began to consider pushing Suki into the duck pond. 

"Yes," she said from behind her smile. "How lovely, Miss Suki. Of course we accept."

The expression on Suki's face was one that Katara would not soon forget, but she did not like it one little bit.


	8. In Which a Social is Attended, for Better or Worse

The village social was not like the stately parties and dances that Zuko had attended previously. He had spent a good deal of time with both his uncle and with Sokka trying to determine what one was supposed to wear to an event like this, and had concluded that he was in over his head before he had even arrived. "Absolutely not that," Sokka had said dismissively of perhaps his entire wardrobe and Zuko, who had never considered himself a vain man, was now coming to the conclusion that he had no right to call himself anything else. He had already noticed that with both Sokka and Miss Katara disregarded much of the latest fashions in favor of sturdiness, but had not yet realized that he stood out in his fashionable jackets and trousers and that perhaps his clothing was not showing him to the village in as pleasant a light as he had hoped.

Miss Bei Fong, it turned out, was not to attend the social with them. "There are plenty of things Toph can convince her parents of," Sokka said, as he continued to pick through Zuko's options of "proper" dress. "A picnic, or a visit, or a walking party. But something as low class as a village social, where all the farmers and merchants will also be in attendance? Oh no, Miss Bei Fong's delicate constitution would prevent her from handling something so far beneath her status."

"I see," Zuko said, wondering how on earth Miss Suki had talked him into going and conveniently forgetting that she had politely bullied him until he'd agreed. "And ... I assume Miss Bei Fong's gentle nature is something that is well known about the village?"

"Of course not," Sokka said, unceremoniously throwing Zuko's best waistcoat onto the floor. "Everyone but the Bei Fongs themselves know what Toph is truly like. But as they are her parents, and willfully ignorant of their daughter’s many eccentricities, we must all pretend as though they know best."

"That sounds quite terrible for the young lady," Zuko commented.

"Of course it is. Why do you think she's turned out the way she has?"

Zuko could not argue with that any more than he could argue with Sokka's rampage through his clothing, and so he settled himself on a chair to wait it out. 

In the end, Sokka managed to find some quite simple clothing of easy construction that Zuko was still willing to wear. "I'm sorry to say," Sokka said, examining Zuko with a critical eye, "that that will have to do."

"Do you have some comment on my wardrobe?" Zuko asked, drawing himself up to his full height.

But Sokka held up his hands in a gesture of pacification. "You look," he said, ignoring the coldness in Zuko's tone, "like you are from town, which I am trying to avoid. It's unfortunate that there appears to be no cure for that."

"Would you rather I look like a farmer?"

"I believe many of our neighbors would resent the tone you take with that word," Sokka said. "I understand that where you have grown up, the difference between rich and poor is much starker. But here there are so few of the rich that it rarely matters, and prancing about a village social in our best garb would be at best silly, and at worst gauche. While I understand that you are not a farmer at all, in the same way I am, if you are to live here, you must come to a more full understanding of your neighbors to allow you to get along with them."

Zuko, abashed, fell silent. It was true that his family's wealth and standing would put most others to shame, especially the siblings at Southwinter, but none of that belonged to him any longer and he was trying his very best to step away from it. But it was the curse of wealth that so often its legacy lingered longer than anyone would have wanted and it would influence Zuko's actions far more than he realized. The contrast between his attitudes and that of the siblings was becoming clearer and clearer, though Zuko had yet to learn that Sokka and Katara had had a very long time to come to terms with their losses and therefore had more practice at handling this particular social dance.

After a moment, Zuko said, "I see. Do I meet your approval?"

"Well enough," said Sokka with a smile that allowed Zuko to take this as a joke rather than an insult. "Now come along, or we shall have no one at all to escort."

In fact, they were quite late, and the ladies, being of strong minds, had left without them. Sokka acquiesced to having Zuko's carriage convey them into the village, but insisted that it not come too close. Zuko at first thought this was yet another attempt by Sokka to pretend that both of them fit quite well into the unwashed masses, but when they arrived, it became clear that the true cause was a lack of ability rather than will. The social took place not in the village hall as he had expected, but in the square outside it under the open sky, and was far too full to admit a carriage to pass.

"Shall we?" said Sokka with excitement, leaping from the carriage like a young stag.

Zuko dismounted more slowly and they walked together towards the crowd.

It was a quite raucous celebration, which again Zuko had not expected. This was not the stately sort of ball he was used to, where even the most vigorous dancing was limited to gentle revolutions. Musicians played somewhere, a fiddle and pipe, at a much more raucous clip than was expected, and the conversations were loud, the laughter louder, and many a face was bright and unguarded.

"You will soon grow used to it," Sokka said upon seeing Zuko's expresion, which must have been horrified. 

Zuko shook his head, sure that he would not in fact grow used to any of it. It was not at all what he was used to and also not what he wished to be involved in, and he cursed himself internally for allowing Suki to push him into this through her stubborn smile and unyielding gaze.

It was not that he was prudish, he told himself, though he absolutely was. It was that there was so  _ much _ .

Sokka pointed. "And there are our companions. Come along, Mr. Zuko, and try not to look as though you're having such a terrible time.

Zuko could not guarantee that, but he followed Sokka anyway and tried to readjust his expression to one of interest rather than horror. Upon seeing the knot of conversation they were aiming for, however, the unruliness of the whole affair became a secondary concern to the company of Mr. Jet, who appeared to be engaged in the unacceptable activity of making Miss Katara laugh.

This soured Zuko's mood further but had the benefit of making him less uncomfortable with the environment. Miss Suki was dressed as she had been at Southwinter, in clothing he had at the time thought was somewhat shabby but now realized was a consequence not of her lack of style, but of his own overabundance of it. She looked much more at home at the social than anyone else, except perhaps Aang who had the look of a man good at making friends with everyone he met.

Miss Katara's hand rested on Mr. Jet's arm and the two were having a quiet and, Zuko thought, quite inappropriate conversation. While Aang maintained a sort of open, untroubled continence, Miss Suki had a similar sharp and flinty gaze that she had given Zuko when he wavered on his attendance to this exact event. She seemed to have employed it with great effect towards Mr. Jet, who was pointedly ignoring her.

Sokka clapped his hands as he stepped into their circle. "Well, well, well," he said brightly. "If it isn't everyone who's company I enjoy."

He did not look at Mr. Jet when he said it.

Miss Suki smiled beautifically. "Ah, I had wondered when you might arrive. As you can see, Katara and I grew tired of waiting for you to make yourself beautiful and had to take matters into our own hands. How good of you to finally join us." She looked behind Sokka at Zuko and smiled still more. "And you as well, Mr. Zuko, a pleasure to see you again. Is something wrong? You look quite uncomfortable."

From her look, Zuko felt that Miss Suki was fully aware of exactly what was wrong and was tormenting him on purpose.

"I simply find myself somewhat outside my element," he told her. "This is very new to me. I am like a babe in the wilderness of this particular gathering."

Miss Suki laughed at that and waved a hand. "No one here will hurt you, sir," she told him. "There is no need to fear."

Zuko did not reply. He was too busy watching Mr. Jet for some sign of evil intentions towards Miss Katara and was unable to pull himself away. Suki, who was quite a clever girl and was very well versed in seeing the true nature of things rather than the venire which stumped some of her more elevated friends, saw Zuko's expression and began to piece together certain facts and draw quite accurate conclusions from them. In fact, it was Suki who would soon put everything together far before the players themselves were able to determine the status of their own feelings on the matter, but being who she was, Suki chose to keep this information to herself. She was far more interested in watching the development of events than shaping them overtly.

"Mr. Jet is quite an interesting man," Suki continued, unconcerned by the darkening of Zuko's expression. "He is very well traveled, you know, and is only lately returned from town. Has he told you this?"

"Yes," Zuko said sharply.

"Yes, how interesting," Suki repeated, more interested by far in Mr. Zuko's reactions than in anything Mr. Jet had done in his whole life. "It is so good to have a well traveled acquaintance with so many stories to tell. And he is quite friendly with Miss Katara, have you noticed?"

Zuko said nothing at all.

"I would ask you to dance," Suki said, which startled Zuko out of his angry revery, "but I do not think it would make you any more comfortable."

"Excuse me?" Zuko said with a start.

Suki indicated the dancing, which was well underway. It was similar to what he was used to, at least in form and function, but done at a much faster clip and by less stately and graceful dancers. Zuko found himself quite out of his depth and looked back down at the enigmatically smiling Suki for help.

"I did tell you," she said, sounding quite like an elder sister. "The dancing is not the kind done by men who spend that much money on their coats."

Zuko took this as an insult, but there was something about Suki that made it difficult to hold a grudge against her, despite the way in which she smiled so often and looked so pleased with herself. Or perhaps it was because of these things. In fact, though Zuko did not know it, it was because Suki held herself with a kind of confidence not often found in women of higher status, as it is very difficult to feel completely comfortable with one's self when there is money at stake. Though Suki would not have said she was destitute, in comparison her plight was quite severe and it gave her a sort of insight into the lives of her friends and their many failings that others would not have had. It also told her quite a good deal about Zuko himself without his having said a word about it. This was, of course, quite uncomfortable for the gentleman, but as she had done nothing to make him feel like she was against him except for quietly teasing, he found it impossible to hold a grudge for her actions.

"You have guessed right, my lady," said Zuko, falling back on great formality as he tried to get his bearings. "I am not used to dances performed with such verve."

"We shall see how you feel by the end of the evening," Suki said. "In that case, it looks like the vicar and I will be taking a turn. I leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Sokka."

And with that, she quite aggressively moved towards Aang who offered his arm without thought that it was the lady doing the asking.

"You have conversed quite often with Miss Suki," Sokka said in a somewhat accusatory tone.

"She seems to believe I require a certain amount of coaching," Zuko said. "Never have I met a woman who is quite so sure of herself, and I do include your sister in that judgement. If she and Miss Suki are friends, it is no wonder that Miss Katara is ..."

"The way she is," Sokka finished, saving Zuko from the embarrassment of trying to say something polite. "Yes, except I find it far more pleasant in Miss Suki." He paused, as though he might have a sudden flash of insight, but shook his head. "It must simply be a nicer trait when it does not come from one's own sister."

"Perhaps," Zuko said, who had not found Katara's personality particularly appealing and was of no relation to her at all. He glanced back and found that she was still speaking with Mr. Jet, which was the best option as it meant she was not dancing with him. To speak with a man at an event where this sort of dancing took place was quite bad enough, but there were certainly more dire options and, while Zuko had felt no such reservations about Miss Suki or Mr. Aang joining the celebration, he had come to the conclusion that if Miss Katara were to engage in it, with a certain partner, that would be quite unacceptable.

"And yet," Sokka said with a casual wave of his hand, having not been privy to Zuko's internal monologue, "I still consider Miss Suki a delicate and well formed specimen of womanhood. She is quite as much her own mistress as Katara is, I agree with you there, but handles herself in a much better fashion. Less shrill."

He had said this part quite loudly and it must have penetrated Katara's conversation with Mr. Jet because she looked up at her brother and scowled. "Is it my character you are maligning, Mr. Sokka?" she said in the overly polite way Zuko had learned to take as a warning sign. "Am I the party who is, in comparison,  _ more _ shrill?"

"Of course you are, my dearest sister," Sokka said, stepping closer and bringing Zuko along with him, crowding the space Mr. Jet had clearly marked out as his to monopolize as he pleased. "You are quite a shirll and horrible creature, like a lost spirit wandering the moors, looking for revenge for perceived slights. Hello again, Mr. Jet. Is she haunting you?"

It was only a long dedication to forcing herself away from violence that stopped Katara from hitting her brother as though they were still children and he had pulled her hair. She removed her hand from Mr. Jet's arm, despite having been quite taken with the conversation, just in case she needed to take some sort of action against the brother intent on destroying her happiness. It was not that she was blind and unable to see Sokka's dislike of Mr. Jet, it was simply that she did not particularly care. It was not a problem she should be forced to address, when it was so clearly an overreaction on Sokka's part.

And of course, Mr. Zuko was here to ruin whatever fun she might have been having. It was impossible to continue accepting Mr. Jet's flattery now, in such unpleasant company.

"Are you planning on dancing?" she asked Sokka. "Suki may have you as a partner, though I fear for her toes."

"Miss Suki is already entertaining Aang," Sokka said. "His charm seems to have gotten the best of me."

Katara knew that Aang's charm was in the very goodness of his nature and that was the kind of thing that almost all women found hard to ignore. A man whose intentions were so innocent and so cloaked in holy robes was the sort of man that women would fight to dance with at a village social. His attention would be taken for the rest of the evening.

"And what of you, Mr. Zuko?" she asked sweetly. "Did you turn Suki down?"

"I was not asked," Mr. Zuko said gruffly and Katara was glad of that. At least Suki still had some measure of sense in her head, despite having decided to attach herself to Zuko. It was unclear to Katara why this had occurred, but she was perfectly happy being simply upset about it rather than trying to do any consideration of Suki's motives.

"Katara, shouldn't you follow Miss Suki's example?" Sokka said pointedly.

"I think not," Katara said and put her nose in the air. "While Miss Suki is beyond all reproach, this is an event at which she is more known and comfortable than I. Therefore, any breaches in assumed decorum which she practices will be viewed as acceptable, while I must continue to maintain myself in order to show that I will not assume a station or knowledge I should not have."

"I see," Sokka said gravely. "You are not yet evolved enough to ask a man to dance with you."

Katara shot him a withering look.

"Miss Katara," Jet said, turning to her with a half bow, hand extending. "I should like to ask you —”

"Would you like to dance?" Zuko cut in.

They looked at each other in shock, Katara quite horrified that he had asked and Zuko feeling exactly the same way. Not only had it been wholly unacceptable for him to cut off Mr. Jet, he found himself confused about why he had even wanted to at all. All he knew was that at the very idea of Mr. Jet asking Miss Katara to dance with him in such an energetic way filled him with both anger and ennui, and he was interested in assuaging his own feelings at the very least.

Mr. Jet also looked at Zuko in an appalled manner, but Sokka seemed content to simply smile around at the company.

"Ah," Katara said as the music changed somewhat. "This dance is ending. The next one will be a waltz, and I'm sure —”

"I am not a very good dancer," Zuko interrupted again, to his own great shame. "A waltz is a much more manageable dance for one such as me, especially as I do not have the speed that seems to be required for the others." He extended a hand as though it belonged to someone else and wondered what on Earth he was doing. "If you would so oblige me."

Katara looked at Mr. Jet and then at Sokka, but neither one of them seemed equipt to help her escape the situation. To her great regret, she saw no other option than to lay only the tips of her fingers into Zuko's hand and, with one last helpless look over her shoulder at Mr. Jet, be led towards the musicians by her emotionally volatile escort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit ... well, anachronistic, and you won't find this in any Austen, but it's more of an homage to the folk dancing socials of my childhood, which I always described as "You know, like period dramas but for poor people." Also more Scottish/Irish. I wish I was kidding, but this is where we went to hang out with our friends and I really miss it. Letting Suki be middle class really allowed me to get into some of the dumb contra dancing I did as a teenager. Just let me have this one, okay?


	9. In Which Feelings Become Clear and are Received Poorly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How has it been so long since I updated? I live in Unemployment Spacetime now and nothing is real, sorry. Anyway, here's the thrilling continuation so maybe it'll get me back on the wagon.

The waltz was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a difficult dance, though it was out of vogue and not usually performed by two parties who did not enjoy each other's company overmuch. Mostly it was a dance for an older set of married couples, the sort of people who have lived together for quite a long time and have never gotten around to the usual familiar dislike. However, it was one of the few dances Zuko was confident doing with Miss Katara in the current setting, and though it was deeply uncomfortable for him to suffer through her company, he at least knew he would not step on her toes.

Quite quickly, Zuko realized two things. The first was that even the simple waltz was performed differently by the lower classes and he found himself the subject of many affectionate but long suffering looks from other participants, likely at the way in which he and Miss Katara held each other at a much greater distance. However, Zuko made no attempt to follow their example and bring Miss Katara closer. Miss Katara as well did not seem open to the idea, giving Zuko all the excuse he needed to keep her at arm’s length.

The second thing Zuko realized was that Miss Katara was a very good dancer.

He had not expected this, in part because he had the benefit of a very fine education which had included dancing and of course she would not have received the same. Additionally, there was something more wild and fey about Miss Katara and her society that led him to think that the finer arts of music and dancing would have fallen by the wayside in favor of things like fencing with sticks in the woods. But Miss Katara was in fact very graceful and whatever she missed in precision — something drilled into him as a child — she made up for in ease and gentleness, her steps flowing around his more practiced ones so it was difficult to tell which one of them had had the better teacher.

"You dance very well," he said after a moment when it became clear he must say something or else suffer in silence for the entire waltz.

Miss Katara smiled at him, though her eyes did not match the expression, so full of fire and passion were they. It was a smile put on for the people around them, not one given freely to Zuko, and he knew that and did not take further offense. "Thank you," she said in her dangerously sweet way. "I may be poor by your standards, but I was still afforded some decent education as befits my station. I am not a country rube with chickens running through my house."

"I never said —” Zuko started, and then changed his mind. Miss Katara's opinion of him was set in stone and there was very little he could do to change it. It might perhaps be easier not to fight it. "Yes, I can see that you have had some education," he said instead. "I meant no offense."

"It is not your lack of faith in my skills that offends me," Katara said and Zuko was surprised by the way in which she could smile and still sound so angry at the same time. "I had thought you and I had made a pact to avoid one another, was that not true?"

"I did agree to that," Zuko said, unable to explain his actions even to himself and scrambling to find some excuse for his behavior. "However, as you can see, it seems that will not be a possibility."

"You are always at liberty to refuse an invitation," Katara pointed out.

"From the lovely Miss Suki?" Zuko said, his tone implying a word other than "lovely". "I do not think that would be at all possible."

Katara seemed to consider this for a long moment, pursing her lips, and then said, "Very well, I will concede that point."

"And if I am to continue to run in the same small circle as you, is it not best if we attempt some kind of reconciliation rather than a continuance of bad feeling?" Zuko tried.

"I would believe your intentions more if you had not been so rude to Mr. Jet just moments ago," Katara pointed out. "It is very hard to think that you are looking to lessen the impact of 'bad feeling' when you continue to create exactly that."

"I am sorry to tell you, Miss Katara," Zuko said in his most formal tone, "that I have very little care what bad feelings I give Mr. Jet, for he has given enough to me to excuse any action I might take."

"He has not said three words to you all together!" Katara snapped back, keeping her impossible smile in place. "He has done nothing at all for you to treat him in the way you do, and I for one place the blame for whatever imagined slight firmly upon  _ your _ shoulders."

"I believe you have placed the blame for every human folly there as well," Zuko said. "What do I care if you add such a slight weight of one man's bruised ego."

"You really are quite horrible," Katara said, losing her smile entirely as well as her manners. 

The comment bruised, but Zuko did not allow Katara to see that. He considered replying with equal anger, but then realized if he made a lady cry while attempting to dance with her, not only would he feel like an ass, his uncle would be deeply disappointed in him. It was hard for him to shake the residue of his childhood, which had required both brittle manners and also a talent for cruelty, but now he felt like Mr. Iroh's weighty gaze was a far worse punishment than any his father could have given.

Therefore, instead of lashing out at Katara as he quite desperately wished to, he pulled himself together and said, "Miss Katara, I cannot dissuade you from that opinion, but just as I would not let my own sister hang on a man like Mr. Jet, I cannot stand by and see him make false promises to you."

"False promises?" Katara said with a narrowing of her eyes. "I see, this makes far more sense now. You have been talking to my brother and he has poisoned you against Mr. Jet. I am greatly disappointed in you, Mr. Zuko, for falling for my brother's unpleasantness. Sokka is a charming man, this is clear, and well liked, and that has meant that no matter what poor opinion he holds, it has a tendency to spread. But you see, the problem is that I already have a low opinion of you, and so your opinion on another being poor only increases my estimation of them. By enlisting you in his crusade against the poor Mr. Jet, Sokka has only succeeded in making him seem more like the aggrieved party. His strategy has turned about completely."

Zuko resisted the urge to sigh deeply at Katara's childish reasoning. "Miss Katara, your brother cares about you and he is worried about how a man such as Mr. Jet may prey upon you."

"I understand my brother's concerns," Katara said, fixing Zuko with a hard look. "I am not too stupid or too silly to know what it is he worries about. However, there is truly no need for him to feel the way he does, and his insistence on continuing his crusade only hurts all parties involved, excepting perhaps Mr. Jet himself."

The dance ended and Katara stepped quickly away from Zuko, who bowed politely and did not receive a curtsy in return. "Tell Sokka," Katara said as she took another step back from him, "that if he wishes to dissuade me from my activities, he must find a better ally in his fight. I am surprised, Mr. Zuko, that you even agreed, knowing as you must that your opinion means so little to me."

Zuko could not admit that, while the subject had come up, Sokka had not asked him to discuss the issue with his sister at all. This conversation came from the same place that had disliked seeing Mr. Jet escort Katara around the meadow, and he still refused to examine the depth and quality of feeling that had been created. It would, he thought, imply an overstepping of his own boundaries, and certainly those of Miss Katara, and that was the last thing he intended on doing, regardless of how well or how poorly the lady thought of him.

"Yes," he said instead in the stiff way he retreated to when there was nothing more to say, "I'll tell him."

He did not offer to escort Katara back to the group, nor did she ask for it. Instead he trailed behind her as she stomped through the crowd in a rather unladylike fashion. He knew he had done a great deal wrong, but it was difficult for him to remember his own faults when she too had been so unpleasant and when he could not seem to take his eyes off the brown curve of the back of her neck when her swift progress allowed glimpses of it through her trailing curls.

It would be necessary very soon, he thought, to examine what motivations spurred him in regards to the lady, but doing so would, he knew, be very painful and discomforting.

"And how is our Mr. Zuko as a partner?" Miss Suki asked Katara with a laugh as the lady and the gentleman approached the group. The others had sat out the waltz, though Mr. Aang's cheeks were still bright from earlier exertion. Miss Suki continued, "It seems, Katara, that all your toes are still intact, so we must assume he comported himself with some grace?"

"Mr. Zuko is indeed a fine dancer," Katara conceded. "That is one thing he cannot be faulted for. As a partner, though, I believe his conversation could be improved. But we must all have flaws, because if not, what would we strive for?"

Zuko, coming up on her heels, shook his head firmly before moving away.

Miss Suki sensed Katara's bad mood and took her friend by the arm, excusing both ladies from the party. When they were far enough away that their conversation would be lost, Suki said, "Now, Katara, please. We are at a social. Do not look so upset or someone is sure to comment on it, and then where will you be, attempting to explain to your brother why you so dislike his friend?"

"Sokka's sense or lack thereof when it comes to choosing companions is not my responsibility," Katara said.

"I will grant you that," Suki agreed pleasantly enough, "but it is not Mr. Sokka's choice in friends that concerns me. Rather, it is being caught in a conflict between the two of you that may drag on for some time. I greatly enjoy the company of both of you, and would hate to be forced to choose sides in a conflict. Besides that, how will you let a man come between you and your brother?"

"He is not a man," Katara said very darkly. "He is an oaf."

"Oaf or not, I believe he still qualifies as a man."

Katara wished for a couch to throw herself upon, to match the drama that she felt building inside her. "Oh, Suki, he's just so horrible!" she burst out.

Suki clicked her tongue in a gesture that reminded Katara of her grandmother's disapproval. "Please, Katara, contain yourself," Suki said. "At least until we are out of the public eye. You may not notice the people here, but they will notice you, and the daughter of Southwinter behaving like a child is certainly something that the gossips will bring up tomorrow. I for one do not wish to defend you from whatever rumors my sisters hear. That will be too long and arduous a process for you to bring upon me."

Katara took Suki's meaning to heart and attempted to pull herself together, which was not easy. Her temper was up after her disastrous conversation with Mr. Zuko and she felt like she needed to release it. But this was neither the time, nor the place, and if she let herself feel too severely in such a public space, it would be the work of months or perhaps years to regain whatever standing she might have in this village afterwards. She did not want to have children laughing at her behind their hands as the young lady who had so embarrassed herself.

So instead of snapping, Katara took a long, deep breath, and conveyed to Suki the conversation had during the waltz.

"Well, your suspicions have come true," Suki said, helping herself to a glass of cider and pressing one upon Katara as well. "Mr. Zuko does not like Mr. Jet. How interesting. And he gave no indication as to why?"

"Nothing apart from Sokka's dislike of the same," Katara said.

"How  _ very _ interesting," Suki said thoughtfully, but did not elaborate. "It seems to me that perhaps Mr. Zuko's dislike of the gentleman may have boosted him in your own eyes."

"I had hoped," Katara conceded, "that Mr. Jet was about to ask me to dance instead, before Mr. Zuko so rudely interrupted and I was forced to accept his invitation."

"And Mr. Jet did not stand up to such an interruption?" Suki asked.

"Alas." Katara took a thoughtful sip of her cider and looked back across the green to where their four gentleman companions waited. "I am still quite unsure of his intentions. However, at least Mr. Zuko's are clear, and they are malevolent."

"Oh, such high language from you, my dear!" Suki cried. "I do not believe you can assign such a strong and cruel motivation to Mr. Zuko. He is, I believe, simply a very shy man and it expresses itself in a poor way."

"I wish then that he was more shy around me," Katara said. "His conversation is unwanted."

While the ladies talked, the gentlemen were engaged in the kind of masculine smalltalk that Zuko had always been particularly bad at. They spoke of hunting and the lands around the village which, though he had only recently returned, Mr. Jet seemed to have some extensive knowledge on. Sokka had intentionally kept to these safe subjects, not wishing to converse with any deeper measure with Mr. Jet. He also was learning to read Zuko's moods on his darkly expressive face, and saw easily that Mr. Jet was not the sort of person Zuko wished to get to know better. Sokka quite agreed, and so engaged in an aggressive conversation about the small patch of woodlands east of Southwinter which was used by the villagers for their own hunting purposes and which Mr. Jet thought should be reserved for the family. 

Zuko had little to say on the subject, being unfamiliar with the environs of the village and the lands therein, and therefore fell into gloomy thoughtfulness. It seemed more and more clear to him that there was something wrong with his interactions with Miss Katara. It was not simply that he disliked her, though he was sure that was true. The real confusion lay in the fact that her returning dislike of him, which should have seemed obvious and natural, stung his ego and made him wish to apologize to her. Apologies had never been something Zuko's family particularly approved of and therefore he had very little understanding of how they worked and when one should be delivered. And he absolutely was not going to offer an apology to a woman who, though kind to others around him — even those like Mr. Jet who so clearly did not deserve it — had said such terrible, impolite things when no one else was looking.

Perhaps, Zuko thought to himself, it was that particular dichotomy that he disliked. Miss Katara's ability to change from one mood to another so quickly did not sit well with him. Maybe, he considered, it felt too much like she was lying, and maybe she was. That seemed a rather good explanation as to why she confused him so.

He could have gone on with this thought for some time, false though it clearly was, except for the fact that at that very moment, he made the mistake of looking over at the two ladies. Katara was laughing at something Suki had said and flickering light from the lamps struck her neck and chin in such a way as to exaggerate the graceful sweep of her profile. For a breath, Zuko was unable to think clearly about anything but that light cast upon her face and highlights and shadows it created, and he realized with a shock that his confusing feelings were not the product of Miss Katara's changeable moods, but in fact was a depth of feeling for her, despite how she spoke to him, that he had not expected. It was, in fact, the beginnings of deep affection, the onrushing beginnings of the kind of sad and desperate love that some people are prone to when the feeling first emerges.

Zuko, who in his two and twenty years had not yet had the misfortune of being in love, was deeply appalled by the realization.

If it had to come upon him in this manner, he reasoned as he attempted to hold on to his consciousness rather than fall to the ground and stay there for quite some time until the emotion passed, why could it not have been a lady who might at least look upon him with some friendliness? Why had it emerged in regard to a woman who had sworn so passionately to hate him with every breath she had? Why could it have not been Miss Suki, who seemed a nice and polite lady if somewhat too level headed for comfort, or even Miss Bei Fong who despite her wild ways and sharp tongue at least seemed to  _ like _ his company? There were so many other women in the world, why must he find himself so enamoured of the one who had declared him her nemesis?

Sokka had asked him a question at some point in his dark musings, and he had not heard until the other gentleman repeated, "I said, do you not agree with me, Mr. Zuko?"

"Oh," Zuko said, with no idea what he was or was not agreeing to. "I'm sure I don't know."

Sokka took this as a clear indication of something wrong and frowned. "Are you quite all right, Zuko? You look rather pale."

Because indicating that you had just fallen in love with one's sister was frowned upon, Zuko said, "No, nothing is wrong. My apologies. It must be the crowd. It has been a very long time since I was around quite so many people and perhaps it is more than I can handle."

"Such a gentle constitution must be considered," Mr. Jet said.

Perhaps Zuko could take his frustrations out on Mr. Jet. Given the setting, he would not have to comport himself like a gentleman and could, perhaps, take a leaf out of the book of the commoners around him and simply fight Mr. Jet with bare fists.

Of course it was a passing fancy. Zuko, who was accomplished in many martial disciplines, knew nearly nothing about brawling and Mr. Jet had the twinkle in his eye of a man who did. It would be an unfair fight, and Zuko did not wish Mr. Jet to have any advantage when things inevitably came to blows.

"My constitution," Zuko managed to say instead, "is fine. Thank you."

Mr. Jet shrugged as though he did not much care one way or the other, and turned away to continue a separate conversation with Aang. Sokka stepped closer to Zuko. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asked.

"I am fine," Zuko said again, more insistanly this time, while careful not to meet Sokka's eyes lest he look as guilty as I felt. He caught a glimpse of Katara's dress out of the corner of his eye and shuffled to change his field of vision to avoid it. "I apologize. It may be ... the company."

Sokka made a sour face. "At least if the company is here, it cannot bother anyone else."

This made Zuko feel somewhat better.

When Miss Suki and Katara rejoined the conversation, however, that improved feeling plunged into the depths, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to the new, crushing weight of his emotions. Rather than say anything, he chose to become even more silent and sullen than before. It allowed him to cover the dramatic stew of feelings and reactions Katara's face ignited within him.

"Only a few dances left," Suki said forlornly. "It would be a shame if we let them pass us by."

Sokka caught her meaning and was quick to ask her to dance. Mr. Jet looked towards Katara but it was quite clear she had no intention of dancing with anyone else that night as her good mood had been spoiled by Zuko's clumsy attempts at jealousy. This was fine with Zuko, who didn't at all want to engage in another confrontation with Mr. Jet and would have had to allow the dance, if only to impress upon Katara that he was not as bad as he had acted.

Katara sighed. "And here I had hoped to have Miss Suki entertain me a little longer," she said, looking wistfully towards the dancers. "But if it will allow her and Sokka some time together, I shall not begrudge it."

This surprised Zuko and while he did not want to speak to Katara again, given the offense he had offered her early, and the burgeoning affection within his chest suddenly struggling to be free, but he found himself saying, "I had noticed his politeness to her, but had not realized there was some sort of arrangement —”

"No, you misunderstand," Katara said shortly, refusing to look at him. "In this village, no arrangements exist in the way you think of them in town. Especially within our family, as who would do the arranging for Sokka? As the younger sibling, it is not my place, and besides, I care most that Sokka find someone whose company he enjoys."

"I see," Zuko said, not seeing at all. "But there is some affection?"

"Sokka is quite taken with her, yes," Katara said, her voice taking on a softer quality. "There is some issue with the standing, as she is the one with more sense and sees the many pitfalls of such a match. But I hope that someday we can move past these things."

"It is the trappings of the physical world only," Aang said, standing slightly straighter. "This division we have between those who are wealthy and those who are not. It should not impact the higher feelings of love."

"And yet, I only live in the physical world," Mr. Jet said with a laugh. "Therefore, am I not obliged to care about the division of wealth and attempt to find myself on the correct side of it?"

"Only if the physical world is your only goal," Aang said without a hint of snideness, which Zuko considered a minor miracle. "I personally believe that it is in fact these higher emotions we should subscribe to and follow where they lead, for only then will we be truly happy."

"How enlightened of you, Mr. Aang," Mr. Jet said, and he was not as polite as Aang had been.

"Enlightenment, sir," Aang said, "is my business."

This garnered a moment of silence from the gathering, but Katara put one hand on Aang's elbow in a friendly, familiar gesture and smiled at him. "And what a lovely business that is," she said, breaking whatever tension might have been developing. "So on that note, let us all hope that Miss Suki considers accepting Sokka's unspoken offer, or that Sokka finds the courage to speak it, whichever may come first."

"You are in favor of this match?" Zuko asked.

Katara turned sharply to Zuko, concerned at his interest now. "Do you disprove?"

"I did not say that," said Zuko, drawing himself up in the face of her anger yet again. "I simply asked. You are close to Miss Suki, are you not? I would have thought that friendship would make you in favor of the union but I did not want to assume." He quite suddenly remembered his earlier words and thought that engaging too much on this issue would certainly hurt him even more than he had already hurt himself, and so tried to change course in the middle. "Not that I am saying you should not favor it, of course. I'm sure you know better than most what would benefit your friend and your brother."

Katara's suspicion got the best of her and she did not believe any sort of good intention Zuko tried to put forth. Because of the twisting path of the statement, she could not decide what exactly he was trying to say to her, but she knew she disliked it. 

"Yes," she said simply, though what she was agreeing to, neither party knew. "Of course."

Twice more after that, Aang tried to pick up some thread of conversation, but it was clear that there would be no more had between the group that evening. Mr. Jet fell silent in the face of the opposition to his suit, while both Katara and Zuko stewed silently in their respective feelings of annoyance and, in Zuko's case, adoration. Therefore, it was quite a relief when Miss Suki and Sokka returned, bright faced, red cheeked, laughing, and not meeting the other’s gaze.

"I am glad you've both had such a good time," Katara said archly, "but unfortunately it is time for us to go."

"Oh, but Katara, the social is not over yet," Suki pressed.

Katara gave her the best smile she could manage, which was not very good. "I know, my dearest Suki, but it is late and we have a long carriage ride home. I am sure Mr. Zuko too must return to his residence in a timely manner."

Suki pouted quite prettily, but it was a false thing that soon left her countenance. "I understand. I must commend all of you for coming out tonight, though I know at least some of you were made deeply uncomfortable by our country ways." Here she smiled at Zuko and he began to suspect she knew far more than she was admitting to, which did not help his mood at all. "Next time, perhaps, we can have a dance you are more comfortable with?"

Zuko understood the implication of her words well and immediately was filled with panic at planning such an event, but through the nerves, he inclined his head and said nothing so he did not scream.

Sokka bowed over Suki's hand, which made her sigh not in the longing way of romantic heroines, but in the good natured annoyance of a woman unused to such silliness. She kissed Katara, smiled at the rest, and waved as they left for their respective carriages home, with Mr. Jet standing at her shoulder like an upset dog robbed of his dinner.

Zuko was not needed to hand Katara up into her carriage as she had Aang and her brother for that, so he left quickly with a short goodbye, and retreated as quickly as he could to his own conveyance. Once stowed away somewhere that no one could see him, he allowed himself to slump and fall into a melancholy that, it turned out, would take his uncle some time to pull him out of. Falling in love, as Mr. Iroh later said, was quite exhausting.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone interested, I did some introductory art for it over at my Tumblr "grapefruittwostep" where you are also invited to tell me about your favorite Jane Austen novel and/or Zutara trope, please check me out.


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